


Out of the Dark

by Goldenwolfmidna



Category: Splatoon
Genre: 3 probably has anxiety of some sort, Abuse, Agent 24, All of the Swearing, Bilingual Character(s), F/F, Female Agent 3, Female Agent 8, Fluff, Nightmares, Not Beta Read, POV First Person, Panic Attacks, Post-Octo Expansion DLC, also when im upset or hurt, always written when im tired, and child theivery, and he's surprisingly chill, and tartar's not dead yeah thanks, can this be considered angst?, forgot to add tartar to tags until 5 chapters in, i was kidding 3 definitely has anxiety, listen to them, lots of swearing, love yall thanks, mute agent 3, my poor children why do i do this to you, pretty new to this ngl, she doesnt like to talk, so yeah sorry about sporatic updates but i write best when feeling a lot, some in denial, the NSS is all lesbians, trying to figure out how to tag, uhh, whoops, written under the influence of lots of musicals
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:48:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 25,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23807170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goldenwolfmidna/pseuds/Goldenwolfmidna
Summary: Three wakes up to find herself face-to-face with a so-called friendly Octoling, who she is forced to take in after it saved her and Inkopolis. But maybe that's not such a good idea, as Three finds herself having to adjust to life back on the surface and keep an Octoling hidden, as well as deal with a few unusual things in her own head, and maybe outside it, too.
Relationships: Agent 3/Agent 8 (Splatoon), Marina/Pearl (Splatoon)
Comments: 77
Kudos: 85





	1. Friendly Octoling?

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!  
> this was a lot of fun to write, so you'll get updates either a) once a week (unlikely) or b) whenever I finish a new chapter (more likely)  
> Also, remember to be safe out there! We're quarintined (here, at least) for a reason!

_Why does my head hurt like this?_

I open my eyes as the ground beneath me shakes, blurry colors forming into shapes as I blink rapidly. In front of me a blob of purple forms into the shape of an Octoling. Pale colors form into Cap’n and I see Pearl and Marina in the back, vaguely. 

Why is there an Octoling-

Why is Cap’n doing nothing when the _enemy is right there?_

I reach for my weapon, but as soon as my arm moves I regret it. Pain washes over me, my vision tints orange and for the first time in a long time, I yelp in surprise.

The Octoling instantly looks worried- why is that? Why is nobody doing anything about it being there?

Closing my eyes, I force myself upright. It hurts, but that’s okay.

My hands wave in my standard communication- “Someone please explain why the _enemy is sitting right in front of me_!” The signs come naturally, as they usually do. Slower than usual, but that’s to be expected when I could barely move without noise a minute ago.

“Hey! Three’s awake, everyone!” Cap’n says, looking at me and not seeming to mind the Octoling. “This is Eight, Three. She’s a friend, okay? When you’re feeling better, I’ll explain more.”

“I can handle it now.” I sign, “after all, it’s right in front of me and I’d like to know if it needs to be pushed off- where are we?”

The Octoling sitting in front of me glances at Cap’n. “Does Three not speak Inkling?” Its voice has a distinct accent, and its hair blows around in the wind. It looks at ease- why is it not terrified?

“She does, just prefers to sign. Something about wrecking her voice at a young age or something.” Cap’n explains. “She can understand Inkling perfectly, and a bit of Octarian as well. We’ll teach you how to read Inkling Signs if you decide to stay with us"

The Octoling- Eight, as Cap’n calls it- nods. “Understood.” Sunlight falls on its face, making its orange eyes look brighter than they are and highlighting ink scars on its face. I don’t know why, but I feel myself blush a bit and look away. _Get a grip on your emotions- that Octoling could kill us all and you’re sat here blushing and getting flustered. Stop it, Three._

“I repeat- where are we?” I ask, feeling slightly better now that I can sit up and think.

“On a helicopter flying to Inkopolis. Eight here just got us out of Kamabo, and then took down a giant statue that was controlled by Commander Tartar, who had you mind-controlled with that blue goop.” Now that he says it, I can see a human statue sinking into the sea and an awful lot of teal goop coming from it.

I remember- flashes of pain and screaming and- “My limiter was removed. I could have killed you all.” My hands shake as I sign out an “I’m so sorry” and rest my forehead against my knees. I don’t deserve to be here- if I could have hurt them and likely did, they should have left me.

I feel a gentle hand pat me on the shoulder a bit, and assume it’s Cap’n. It reaches around me, to my shoulder, and I glance up to see it’s the Octoling, concern evident on its face. I flinch as soon as I notice and the Octoling pulls its arm away, eyes flicking around, looking anywhere but at me. 

“Cap’n, tell Eight I apologise.” I sign, unwilling to speak verbally. Why bother when it could kill us all? But I was rude, and maybe, just _maybe_ it was a friend.

“Eight, Three apologises for flinching away.” Cap’n says to Eight, who smiles a bit before turning back to me, sunlight shining on its hair and highlighting it in a soft orange glow.

“It is alright, Three. I understand. According to Cap’n, you have been fighting Octolings for a long time.” At this, I nod. I have been fighting its- her- kind for at least two years. Ever since Cap’n found me. “It may take a while for you to trust, but I really do mean you and your friends well.”

I nod a bit. I want to believe her, but I wanted to believe a lot before now. She has to earn my trust.

“Where’s my weapon?” I sign to Cap’n, who shrugs.

“Ask Eight. She was the one who brought you here.” He must see my face go from its normal, relatively pale color to a bright orange, because I certainly feel it.

I glance up at Eight inquisitively. She doesn’t seem to notice how flustered I am, instead pulling my Hero Shot out from behind her and handing it to me. I sign a quick “Thank you” and try to stand. A terrible idea. I instantly fall over, and close my eyes in mild exasperation. _Why am I so useless right now?_

“If you would like, Three, I can help you get up?” Eight offers hesitantly, tucking one of her tentacles behind her ear. Her hair is a dark purple-pink, a color I haven’t ever seen before.

I nod and reach out my hand, which she takes and pulls me to my feet. Her hand is so warm- it’s a weird change from the confines of that dark facility we’d been trapped in for weeks.

I keep ahold of her as I walk over to Cap’n and sit down, Eight at my side. I give her a small smile as thanks and begin signing rapidly to the Cap’n, asking him everything that happened and what I missed. He tells me, with Eight sometimes adding things.

My mind keeps cycling back to one part- _“You were ruthless- tying me up-” “And then you came at me, with the teal stuff on your face, and smiling the whole time. You looked like you wanted to kill me.”_

_I am a failure for not resisting it, for being unable to protect them, for nearly killing Cap’n and Eight._

_Why do you care so much about Eight? She could still be The Enemy, you know._

_I’m going to give her the benefit of the doubt._

_When she leaves, I won’t be hurt. Can you say the same?_

\--

The cabin is the same as it was, but also so different. After getting to Octo Canyon, we all gather around the cabin, sitting on couches and the ground, and in my case, laying on the couch. Eight insisted on sitting next to me, so I have her on the couch as well.

“New Squidbeak Splatoon.” Cap’n begins. “I have been trapped in the Kamabo Corporation's Deepsea Metro, along with Agents Three and Eight, for the past two weeks and three days.”

Marie pipes up. “Would you three like me to make you some soup? You all must be starving.”

I sign a quick “yes, please” as Cap’n and Eight affirm that yes, we would all like soup. Marie nods and busies herself with making the soup as we all listen to Cap’n talk about what happened.

As he drones on, I feel my eyes grow heavy and fight to keep them open, but after a few minutes this becomes a fruitless endeavor.

As I fall into a light, uneasy sleep, I press myself closer to Eight, a subconscious decision. I don’t know why I do, but I feel her shift slightly closer to me.

\--

Gently, I am shaken awake. As I shake my head, I notice it was Eight to do so. “Three, we have soup now, if you’d like some.” She tells me, holding a bowl. I nod, sitting up and she hands me the bowl.

I begin eating, and only now do I realize how hungry I am. The bowl is gone in less than five minutes, and refilled by Marie after I ask her.

I notice everyone staring at me after a few minutes, except Eight, who is, like me, eating soup until she can’t. Without missing a beat, I sign “what’s with all the attention? I’m gone for two and a bit weeks and y’all worry this much?”

“Three, you’re the only one of us who could take Eight home. Four has her girlfriend, and Marie, Cap’n Cuttlefish and I need to stay here. It’s not healthy that we’d keep her from Inkopolis, which is what she wants to go to.”

This makes me pause. Consider. If I take an Octoling home, no one would know. I live alone. And the Cap’n raises some fair points.

“Fine.” I sign. “But does she know any signs?” It’s how I talk, and if we’re going to be roommates, she’ll need to understand.

“I started teaching her as soon as she saved us, she’ll get some basics. You may have to teach her some but she should get some.” Cap’n replies.

Great.

“We’ll be off then. I need to get back so I can turf tomorrow for a bit of cash, because now I need to feed two people.” I stand up to leave and Eight follows me.

\--

We emerge out of the sewer grate, me shaking myself off as Eight stands up beside me.

“Where do you live?” She asks, cheerfully. We begin walking towards the subway station as I answer.

“You’ll see.” Based on the way she nods, I assume she understands. 

“Very exciting!” Her eyes are wide as we walk past the Great Zapfish, and I tug her sleeve to get her walking again. Instead of dropping the sleeve though, when she follows me, she grabs my hand. I let her, feeling all of my ink rise to my face again.

_I need to get a grip on my emotions._

We round a corner and get on the platform for the subway. Thankfully, there are only two Inklings waiting, and they’re both on their phones. Neither of them even look up as we get on the subway, which Eight looks worried about.

“Don’t worry, it’s not like K-A-M-A-B-O. We just have to pay to get off, not take a test.” I sign, then realize she can’t understand. Taking out my phone, I type it out.

“Oh. That’s good!” She says, smiling at me. Then she begins to inspect the posters on the train, stopping at one of Off the Hook’s concert schedule.

“We should go see this!” She turns to me, and even though a few hours ago I would have splatted her twice over, now I just smile and shrug. “If Pearl and Marina pay, because I don’t have the money for that.”

“What? I got something about Pearl and Marina, but other than that I could not understand.” Eight says, looking at me.

I type it out and begin teaching her my common signs- money, do not, yes, no.

She watches me sign, and then signs them back at me. She has an affinity for learning this, which is good. Useful. We’ll get along well.

We get through those quickly and I begin teaching her more, my phone a useful resource as I sign, she signs, I write out what it means, she signs until she gets it. By the time we’re at Krackyn, she’s learned more than I did in the first week.

As the doors close, I sign to her. “One more stop until ours, in R-O-S-E-P-O-R-T.”

“That sounds like a very pretty place!” Ever cheerful, Eight pulls me down to the plastic seats and looks out the windows, like a little squid would. Her mouth slightly open, she’s obviously happy and amazed.

After a few minutes, I tap Eight on the shoulder. When she turns, I sign. “Do you like the view?”

Eight doesn’t say anything for a moment. Then, suddenly, I’m pulled into a hug that I don't know how to respond to. I, after a few seconds, hug Eight back gently, then releases her.

“It’s nearly our stop. Make sure you have everything.” I warn Eight, who checks her pockets twice before nodding. 

The subway pulls to a stop, and I step off the train, Eight right behind me.

“It’s so pretty here!” Eight says, gripping my hand and dragging me to the stores, none open. “In the Octo Valley as you call it, all of the buildings are metal or...” Eight thinks for a second, “rock. Like this,” she points at the concrete sidewalk.

I had to agree- from what I’ve seen, octarians tended to favor concrete and metal instead of anything else. The primarily wooden buildings must be odd to her, but odd in a good way, as the little Octoling was wide-eyed in amazement.

“Three, we should explore!” She chirps, dragging me along to another store, which had candles and art supplies in the window. Roses lined the flowerboxes along the streets, and no Inklings seemed to be out this late.

“Maybe later.” I sign. “I’m tired and I’m sure you must be too. Let’s go home first.” I take Eight’s hand again- blushing all the while, if that was important- and begins leading her home. 

As they approach the small house I call my own, the sun begins to set and the wind picks up, blowing Eight’s hair around- which is adorable, not like I think that at all- and I unlock the door.

“Here we are.” I sign, letting Eight in before me and shutting the door behind me when I enter. 

Looking at the house, I breathe a sigh of relief. I cleaned up. The couch in front of the TV is tidy, with the tables not strewn with books. The kitchen is clean for once, and hopefully my room is clean-

Oh shit.

I have one room. One bed.

_Eight can take it._

_Traitor. She’s going to betray you._

I shake my head and smile at Eight. “What do you think?” I ask.

“It is very nice!” Eight smiles, and then yawns. “Though I am very tired. Maybe sleep is a good idea.”

“Yeah, maybe. Follow me.” I begin walking up the stairs, opening the door to my bedroom. Thankfully, it’s clean too. Stepping into the room, Eight sits down on the bed.

“I can sit here, right?” She asks after a second, and I nod.

“I’m going to go change out of my gear and into normal clothes. I’ll be back in a few minutes. If you need anything, I’ll be a door down the hall.” She looks confused, and so I type it out on my phone. After that, I add, “Feel free to wear anything in the closet.” beneath the previous part. She reads it and nods, and I quickly grab some clothes from my closet, just basic comfortable clothing.

Heading to the bathroom, I lock the door and look at myself in the mirror. Around my left eye, and extending up to my hairline, the flesh is raw and red. Great.

I touch it and instantly regret it as I wince and bite down my tongue to keep myself quiet. It _hurt_.

I’d deal with that later.

I take off my clothes, checking myself for any scars. Mostly, just my face is like that, and the other scars are from octarian ink, not this teal sanitized goop. It should be fine.

I get into the shower quickly, and Cod, does it feel good. I stand there a few minutes, letting the warm water run over me, until I remember that I have Eight here too. I quickly wash myself, which feels _so good_ after the Kamabo facility’s awful sanitized Octarians shooting me with that goop.

Getting out of the shower and drying myself off, I change into the clothes I got myself and get to work brushing my beak. It’s a pain, but I do still because of that awful facility.

I splash some cold water on my face and it feels good, and unlock the door. Knocking on the door to the bedroom, I enter and see Eight sitting on the bed.

“You look very different when not a hero.” She says. She’s sitting on the bed, cheerful.

I drop the clothes. “Do you want a S-H-O-W-E-R?” I ask her, spelling out ‘shower’ so I don’t have to use my phone.

“Yes, please! Where would that be?” She says, hopping up.

"Do you want me to wash your clothes?” I ask her, using more pointing than signs.

“You don’t have to. But if you want, sure.” She replies, and I gather the clothes. I’ll wash them. I don't touch the discarded ink tank though. It'd be a bad idea, because an ink tank is a personal thing. I just kind of nudge it to the side with my foot and the Octoling doesn't seem to mind.

“Shower’s there.” I point and she walks to the bathroom, and as I start the laundry I hear the shower running.

Now- time to panic. I’ll sleep on the couch, I figure. That’ll work fine. I head upstairs and grab a blanket, tossing it on the couch. 

I make a little bit of toast, pulling out some jam I’d made a few months ago. I’ll ask Eight if she wants any and if so she can have some.

At that moment, I hear the shower go off and a few minutes later Eight comes downstairs.

“Do you maybe have any- oh!” She seems surprised that I already have some food made. “I was going to ask if you had anything to eat and you did.” She sits next to me at the counter, and reaches for a plate of toast.

“Can I have this?” She asks, and when I nod she pulls the plate towards her. She takes a bite and looks rather surprised.

“It tastes so different than the soup earlier!” She says excitedly. “Does all Inkling food taste different?” 

I nod, halfway through my piece of toast. Good jam- I should start making more blackberry.

“That’s so cool!” Eight exclaims, and for the rest of the mock-dinner, we eat in silence.

Afterwards, we head to bed. Or I was going to, but then Eight asks me a question- “Are you planning on staying in here with me?” 

I panic, feeling the orange creep back to my cheeks. “If you want I can but I was going to sleep downstairs if that's alright but really it's fine-”

“If it’s okay with you, I don’t really want to be alone today.” She says, and for the first time I notice a purple-pink blush on her face. I wonder why.

“That’s fine.” I smile, and it’s only kind of forced. “Give me a minute to get something and I’ll meet you up there, okay?”

She gets the gist of what I’m saying, and heads upstairs as I lock the door, double-check it, nod, and go to get my blanket. Slinging it over my shoulder, I walk up the carpet-covered stairs and into my room, where Eight sits on the bed.

“Are we both sleeping in the bed, or what..” My hands drop. I’m scared- that’s stupid, _get a grip, Three, this means nothing, why are you like this_ -

“..If it’s okay with you, yes?” Eight replies quietly, and I move to sit next to her. 

“That’s fine.” I reply. “If you need anything, feel free to wake me.”

“Okay.” Eight climbs into the bed, which is pressed into a corner of the room. I climb in after her.

“Night.” I sign to her, and no reply. Looking at her, she’s fast asleep already.

I close my eyes, calming myself.

_This is nicer than you’ve been in years, Three. What’s gotten into you?_

_She’s helpless. I’m doing this for NSS._

_..you tell yourself that._

\--

**■Webmaster■ > Agent 1 has created the chatroom ** **_NSS -3 & 8_ **

**■Webmaster■ > Agent 1 has joined the chatroom**

Agent 1> yall

Agent 1> you saw it right

Agent 1> yall saw three totally is crushing on eight right

**■Webmaster■ > Agent 2 has joined the chatroom**

Agent 2> Yeah.

Agent 2> Wondering if she’ll ever notice or acknowledge it though.

Agent 2> She wasn’t ever the type to admit much to anyone.

Agent 1> yeah but now we all see it so we can try to get them together

Agent 2> Don’t you think that’s a bad idea?

Agent 2> After all, it’s not our lives and we could ruin theirs.

Agent 1> yeah but still

Agent 1> also marie change your name to marie or something cause im getting kinda confused

Agent 1> too many agents here already. think of what'd happen if 4 decided to join rn

Agent 2> Okay.

**■Webmaster■ > Agent 2 has changed their name to Marie**

Marie> Better?

Agent 1> much

Agent 1> but seriously three needs someone. you know how she gets

Agent 1> all angsty and only leaves the house for turf and grizzco

Agent 1> and maybe baking supplies

Marie> Yeah, fair enough.

Agent 1> maybe help them out a bit?

Agent 1> like get them together a tad

Marie> To be fair, they are adorable together. Did you notice Three was sleeping on Eight?

Agent 1> yeah ofc i did

Agent 1>

Marie> That’s so cute, my Cod.

Marie> I’ll help, but not tonight. Got a lot to do tomorrow.

Agent 1> k then

Agent 1> night marie

**■Webmaster■ > Marie has left the chatroom**

Agent 1> wait shit can 3 and 8 see this

Agent 1> oh shit

Agent 1> wait nevermind were all good

**■Webmaster■ > Agent 1 has changed the chatroom name to** _**get 3 and 8 together**_

Agent 1> night yall

**■Webmaster■ > Agent 1 has left the chatroom**


	2. What's Wrong with Me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waking up in a much more abrupt and unusual manner than usual, Three and Eight go out to Inkopolis for breakfast and turf, but things take an unpleasant turn. They spend the rest of the day baking, Three ignoring what happened and Eight worrying.  
> Meanwhile, Four catches onto what's going on, and the NSS makes some plans to help the two out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [WARNING: Nightmares that include messing with eyes]  
> Italicised paragraph right below this is what you're going to want to avoid if you don't like that kind of stuff!  
> \---  
> I've been having fun writing (and had this mostly done because anxiety be like that) so here we are! Part two of the Misadventures of Agents Eight and Three!

_I’m running._

_Why am I running?_

_Looking back, I see a horde of Sanitized Octolings chasing me, and I run faster, feet pounding against the cement._

_Something’s at the end of the hall, and I know I need to get to it. As I run faster and feel my feet connect with the ground, it becomes clear what it is._

_Eight._

_She’s laying on the ground, hand twitching._

_Is she alive? She has to be, right?_

_As I get to her, she opens her eyes and looks at me. Relieved to see a friendly face, I smile._

_“Come on, we need to go.” She says, grabbing my hand and starting to run._

_My heart beats faster than ever before as we run from the Octolings, as she darts through the maze of tunnels and hallways._

_We arrive in a room, a chair in the center. The only door is behind us, and the room is decently small._

_“What now?” I sign. “They’re still coming.”_

_“I know.” She turns away from me._

_“What’s wrong?” I ask, and then step back as she faces me again._

_Her usually bright orange eyes are teal, and her hair is turning teal as well. The sterile, clean, awful, stanitized Octoling color._

_“You really don’t understand, do you? This is a game, and we cannot allow you to win.” Eight steps towards me, movements jerky, as if she were a puppet. She’s grinning, eyes dull and cruel, enjoying the torment I’m in._

_I reach down for my gun, and grasp nothing. Eight laughs, “You really think it’d be that easy? That you could get out of this?”_

_I’m at a loss for words. I just tense myself, ready to fight however I need to._

_“Three, you cannot win.” The voice echoes all around me, and I glance around in confusion._

_As I’m not paying attention, Eight jumps at me, easily restraining me and forces me to the chair. She locks my wrists to it, then legs._

_“And now, you will become one of us.” Her form jerks towards me, where she takes her ink tank- full of teal goop- off._

_“If only you could have predicted this, eh?” She takes a handful of the goop and I shut my eyes as she smears it on my face._

_It burns- hurts more than anything I could think of. I say something- beg her to stop, ask her to leave me alone- just make the pain stop!_

_She then laughs again, taking another handful of goop and uses a hand to force my eye open and-_

“-Three! Are you okay!”

Eight is leaning over me, eyes full of concern. “You were talking in your sleep. Asking me to stop?”

Fuck.

That hasn’t happened in years. I don’t talk anymore- I sign and listen.

“I’m okay.” I sign. “Just a bad dream.”

I don’t resist when she hugs me, though I’m tense. What if the nightmare isn’t over and she’s going to kill me?

She doesn’t, thankfully. When she releases me, she says something I didn’t expect.

“I like your voice. Except when you are asking me to stop. Then it’s less nice.”

“Thanks?” I reply, and turn on my phone. 08:13 AM.

“We have a few hours, so maybe you want to learn how to turf?” I ask, typing it out when Eight doesn’t get it.

“Sounds fun!” Eight claps excitedly, and I smile and feel ink rise to my cheeks- _not right now feelings_ -

“Feel free to change into something- make sure it's comfortable.” I sign, getting my Replica Splatfest Tee from my closet and some Replica Octoling Boots. “I’ll be in the bathroom, if you need me.”

“Okay!” Eight chirps, and I close the door. Going into the bathroom and locking the door, I look at myself.

Same old me, just with a new ink scar. It’s healing over, a slight teal tint to it already. I check my left eye, the one that Eight had forced goop into in the nightmare.

Nothing unusual.

_Stop being paranoid. Go and have fun getting her a turf license and teaching her how to turf like you do._

I change into the tee and boots, missing the feeling of them in the time I’d been in Kamabo. For headgear I’d probably go with nothing, as I’m really not in the mood to fuss with fixing a hat.

I exit the bathroom after cleaning my beak, knocking at the door.

“Hi!” Eight says when I open the door. She’s in a bamboo hat, olive ski jacket, and my old armor boots. “Is it alright if I wear this all?”

“Of course,” I reply. “Now, we need to get you a weapon. Follow me.” I turn and walk downstairs, to my weapons room. I pick up my trusty N-Zap ‘89, and let Eight have her choice.

“What do all of these do?” She says, picking up an E-Liter I never really tried. “They look a lot like the ones at the testing facility.”

“Same concept, probably.” I reply. With this, she nods and walks over to the brushes. She picks up the Octobrush and nods.

“I like this one, if that’s fine..?”

“Yeah, of course. Keep it.” I sign. “We need to get you R-E-G-I-S-T-E-R-E-D for turf now.” 

“Okay!” She bounces out of the house, waiting for me to lock the door. “Do we get to go on the subway again?”

I nod, and she looks so happy. Eight begins skipping towards the subway station, me right behind her. After all, I have to pay.

When we get there, the platform is crowded with Inklings waiting for the train to get there to take them to Inkopolis. “Stay close,” I sign to Eight as we get on the train. I move to the plastic seats, Eight following me closely.

We sit, and I pull out my phone. No new notifications from the **NSS Group Chat** , as Marie named it a few weeks ago.

“What are you doing?” Eight asks, looking over at me curiously.

“Checking my phone.”

“Oh. Where does one get a phone?” Eight asks, and it hits me- if she gets lost or hurt, I’ll have no idea!

“I’ll get you one later.” I reply, and add to the group chat:

 **■Webmaster■ > Agent 3 has joined the chatroom** **_NSS Group Chat_ **

Agent 3> getting eight a phone. will add her when we have one

Agent 3> can anyone help pay? dont have the cash for another phone and new weapons for turf

**■Webmaster■ > Marie has joined the chatroom**

Marie> Sure, 3! I’ll meet you in front of Deca in 10?

Agent 3> sure thing. thanks marie

**■Webmaster■ > Marie has left the chatroom**

**■Webmaster■ > Agent 3 has left the chatroom**

“All sorted, Eight.” I sign, and then laugh as I notice her wide-eyed in wonder at the world beyond the window of the train.

Tapping her shoulder, I sign, “want to get some food after we meet Marie? And then register you for turf?”

“Sure! This is super cool, you know. The Promised Land is amazing!” Eight looks so cheerful that I don’t have the heart to tell her that a lot of Inklings are awful, too. 

\--

In front of Deca Tower, Marie was waiting as she said she would. As soon as Eight saw her, she broke into a grin and ran towards her, to the confusion of many an Inkling. I jog after Eight, waving at Marie.

“Hey, squiddo.” Marie says, giving me a hug that I really needed. Out of the corner of my vision, it almost looked like Eight was.. Jealous? Nah.

“Thank you so much, Marie.” I sign. “We want to get her a phone now?”

“Never a better time than the present! Let’s go shopping!” Marie almost sings, walking purposefully among the many buildings of Inkopolis and eventually finding a phone store.

As we enter, the shopkeep looks up. He’s a tall Inkling, with short-cut hair and a bored expression on his face. His ink is a deep purple, if his hair is any indication. 

“Hello, welcome to Shellphones, what can I do for you?” He says, looking up at us.

“Hi! We’re here to buy a phone.” Marie takes charge of the conversation. Probably for the best, because I won’t talk and Eight’s accent is noticeable at best.

“Okay, ma’am.” He and Marie go off, looking around the store.

As soon as they’re out of earshot, Eight speaks. “Three, are you sure you’re really okay? Because it seemed to me that your bad dream really was bad. That or you talk more than NSS makes it seem.”

I sigh, wondering if a lie or the truth would be better.

“It was an awful dream. Just brought on by P-A-R-A-N-O-I-A though. If we are being honest, I don’t fully trust you.” 

Maybe a bad idea to say, but Eight nods. “That’s understandable. Most Octolings are not like me.” She looks a little hurt, regardless.

At this point, Marie was calling Eight over to look at a phone. After a few minutes, the phone was bought and after Eight’s turf lessons, would be set up.

“Thank you, Marie!” Eight said as the Inkling woman super-jumped back to Octo Valley.

“Ready for your registration to turf?” I signed at Eight, who nodded eagerly.

“This’ll be a lot of fun!” She says, following me to the base of the tower. As we get there, I take a left and walk to the registration booth.

The Inkling sitting there looks up at me and smiles- it’s Four, thankfully. Her tentacles are tied up around her head, and her natural yellow ink color lets the bright blue of her eyes show clearly.

“Heya, Three. What'cha here for?” She asks, then sees the Octoling behind me. “Getting Eight registered for turf?”

I nod. “Okay. Eight!” She calls, and the Octoling girl turns. “We need to ask you a few questions to get our license for turf.”

Eight walks over, and I quickly sign to her. “I’ll be right back. Stay here with Four if you get done before I’m back.”

“Understood.” Eight says, and then begins talking with Four about the registration.

I walk to the Ammo Knights store, signing a quick “hello” at Sheldon before moving over to investigate the ink tanks.

“Need any help, Three?” Sheldon asks, walking over to stand beside me.

“I need to get Eight a new ink tank. The one she has is practically wrecked. And she doesn’t seem to like it.” I reply, studying one of the tanks.

“That’s to be expected. While you were asleep- at least, Four said you were- Cuttlefish was saying that every time Eight failed a test, the ink tank would explode and splat her. I was looking at the tank a bit and I assume the explosion was caused by what must have been essentially an ink mine’s force packed into a bag that would explode if a certain criteria were met.” Sheldon rambles, waving his hands.

“In fact, I was wondering if you two would stop in. I made up something custom for her, so it’d have the same weight, give or take, but not explode this time ‘round if she did something we didn’t like, eh?” Sheldon walks behind the counter and puts something onto it after a few seconds.

The custom tank is similar to most Inkling’s tanks, but around the top, the plastic forms into a vaguely octopus-esque shape and when I pick it up, it feels a lot heavier than I’m used to. The straps to hold it on are adjustable, and it looks great as well.

“How much will it be?” I ask Sheldon.

“Considering I made this specifically for her, nothing, really. Though if you want to pay for it..” He trails off.

I shake my head in mock shame as I pull out my wallet and my card. I type a quick ‘10,000’ into the register and swipe the card, seeing the screen brighten with a ‘your transaction is finished’ message and my balance below it- 10,000 coins. A lot lower than I’d like, but I can work part-time at Grizzco later, after Eight and me finish turf.

“Thanks, Sheldon!” I sign on my way out, carefully holding the tank and walking back to the turf registration booth.

I walk slowly, carefully, to the booth. What if she hates it? What if she’s gone?

_Why worry when that’s what you want?_

_You didn’t want her as your roommate._

_You want her gone. Admit it and it’ll be so much easier._

I shake the thoughts out of my head and get to the booth, where Four and Eight are still talking, Four holding out a card to Eight. The Octoling takes it, chirps a thank you to Four, and nearly runs into me.

“Hi, Three!” Eight says, smiling cheerfully and taking a step back. “I’m registered for turf- what are you holding?”

I set the tank down for a moment. “Ink tank. For you.” I sign.

Eight looks confused, so Four pipes up. “She has an ink tank for you. I assume she went to Ammo Knights and got it off of Sheldon.” When I nod, Four does a small triumphant fist pump. “Knew it!” 

Eight takes it, concern evident on her face as she tries it on. It looks good on her- not like I care. After a few seconds, she seems to understand it won’t explode, and the ink in the tank begins to fill.

“Do you like it?” I ask, laughing a little bit as she tries to look behind her to see what she looks like in it.

“Yes! It’s great! Thank you, Three!” Eight’s beaming, and looks so at ease with the weight.

“Thank you, Four. See you tomorrow?” I sign to the Inking, who’s watching us and laughing.

“Sure thing, Three. Have a great day, you two!” Four calls after us as we begin walking to get some food before we try turf.

“Can we go in there?” Eight asks as we pass a little cafe, the sign proclaiming it _Tressa’s Terrace_.

“Sure,” I sign and open the door. A wave of good smells hits me- coffee, scones, cake, and so many more I can’t identify. Eight looks just as mystified as I feel, and the Inkling at the counter laughs a bit.

“Never been in here before?” He says, smiling warmly at us as we walk up to the counter to order.

“Nope!” Eight replies. “We may need some time to figure out what we’re going to order, so please excuse us.”

She takes my hand- Cod, why is hers so warm?- and we sit at a table, her looking at me with concern.

“Do you need me to speak for you?” She asks, and I feel a wave of relief and some other emotion wash over me. Honestly, I’m surprised she asked. I would have had to speak- or point, or write, or sign- if she hadn’t.

“It’d be nice. If you’re okay with that.” I reply, and glance over at the array of goods they have. “If you’re okay doing it, I think I’ll have a B-L-A-C-K-B-E-R-R-Y S-C-O-N-E.” I point, and she nods. 

“That looked good. I was thinking of maybe trying one too.” Eight says. “I’ll go order. Do you want a drink?”

“No, thanks. One second.” I take my wallet out again and give her my card. “Pay with this. Later we’ll get you some cash on your card.”

“Okay! Thank you. I will be back soon.” Eight says, going up to talk to the cashier.

My eyes scan the street outside- it’s a beautiful day, and only about ten in the morning. Inklings are going about their day, and sometimes some jellies too pass by the window.

As I’m caught up in my thoughts, Eight returns with a scone for me and a cup of coffee and scone for her. She hands me the card back, and I tuck it into its place in my wallet. 

We begin eating in silence, and for some reason my eyes keep drifting to her face, and how the sunlight reflects off her hair and makes her eyes so much brighter. 

“Three?” The voice snaps me back to reality.

“Yeah?” I ask.

“Do you like the scone?”

I smile. “It’s great. Thank you for getting it.” It’s also nearly gone, being the only thing I’ve eaten today. Eight, on the other hand, has barely eaten any so far. “Do you like yours?”

“Yes, it is very good! Just very filling.” She must see my look of confusion. “As soldiers, we rationed food. This is more than we’d get in a week, usually. We never knew when we’d receive supplies next.”

I nod. Makes sense. “Here, you can eat all you want. You don’t need to ration.”

“I know. It’s just a large leap to make.”

We finish eating, Eight with half her coffee and scone left. Thanking the cashier, we leave to get started on turf.

\--

“Eight, hold the brush higher!” I sign quickly as she gets splatted (again) because she’d been running. Her body explodes in the green ink of the enemy and I, being the great roommate I am, splat the offender, the ground now inked the yellow that’s out color.

As I duck into an alley, ink covering the ground as I hold the N-Zap’s trigger, I hear the piercing whistle meaning the game’s over. I sigh, super jumping back to the respawn point and walking out of the skatepark that had served as our battleground.

“That was really fun!” Eight says, shaking some green ink off her head. As we walk over to Judd, the other two members of our turf team talk amongst themselves. They seemed friendly enough-after all, they’d let a mute and an octoling- not like they knew the latter- battle with them.

“It was, good job on your first turf.” I sign, and Eight smiles. Her face still has little specks of green ink on it still, and for some reason I reach up and brush it off. She lets me, catching my hand as I pull it back.

“Thank you.” She says, as we make it to Judd, who is studying the battlefield and a few Inklings tally stats.

Judd looks up at us, the final two to get to the judging stand. Lil Judd points to something on the map Judd has in front of him, and the larger cat nods.

“The winner is the Yellow team, with 50.2% of the map covered compared to Green with 48.7% covered. Good job, Yellow team!”

All of the Yellow team- my team- cheers and high-fives and all around are cheerful, while team Green look somewhat disappointed, but applaud as well, a polite tradition in turf.

Eight looks so happy- even more so when the Inklings tell us our special count and splats. For me, five tenta missiles and twelve splats. For Eight, one special and two splats. Better than I got my first turf, but Eight has someone helping her.

“Good job.” I sign to Eight as I pull my hand out of hers. For some reason, I feel a small amount of sadness regarding this. Weird. “Want to go again or try something else?”

“If it’s okay with you, go again?” Eight says, the sunlight gleaming on her hair. “I had a lot of fun this time, and I think I get the concept now.”

“Okay then.” I wait a second as the Inklings ask for our cards, to put the cash we earned on them. I give one my card, and after a minute it’s returned to me with an additional 2,000 coins on it. Eight does the same after me, earning only 1,200. That’s a good amount for your first match.

“Where do we go now?” Eight asks as some of the Inklings begin super jumping away. She doesn’t seem to quite get the concept of a super jump- did Octolings not do that?

I sigh and grab her hand, going into squid form. She seems to get the concept, becoming a yellow ink octopus. I prepare myself to jump, and keep ahold of Eight’s now-inky tentacle.

I jump, pulling her with me as I carve through the air, turning back into my normal Inkling form midair, and Eight doing the same, her hand in mine. As we land back at the base of Deca tower, my head erupts in pain.

I fall to the ground, my hands clutching my head as I try to force my way through the pain.

_MakeitstopmakeitstopMAKEITSTOP-_

_This is her doing._

_No, it’s not. She wouldn’t.._

_Yes. It is. She’s the only one who could have done this._

My head hurts so much. I feel like I’m on the verge of being splatted, but the pain drawn out and concentrated. As I see through blurry vision Eight reach out to me, I flick my hands out in a “leave me alone!” gesture.

“Three, I just want to help-” she sounds hurt, and usually I could afford to give a fuck, but this is not ‘usually’. Her eyes shine with the start of tears, and I feel guilt for a moment before rage and pain engulfs me.

“Leave me alone!” My hands scream at her, and I see tears in her eyes. Do I care? Yes, but this _must be her fault_ . “You did this! You’re _THE ENEMY!_ Why did I think you could change! For fuck’s sake, _you’re an OCTOLING!_ ” I’m crying.

_Weak._

Why am I crying?

_Just make it STOP!_

“Three-” Eight starts, then stops. Turns away. Walks into Ammo Knights, probably to ask Sheldon if she could use the bathroom so she could get away from me. I’m a monster.

Of course that happened. What ‘that’ was, I don’t know, but I snapped at her and I shouldn’t have.

_She’ll hate me now._

_She already does hate you._

_That’s why she did_ this _._

 _Whatever_ this _is._

_No, she didn’t. Probably a side effect of being in that awful testing facility for so long._

_...if you insist._

I’ll apologise when- if- she returns. For now, I’m sat at a bench, head in my hands, sobbing about what an awful friend I was. Who knows, maybe she’ll find someone better than me to be roommates with.

 _Cod_ , why do I have to mess _everything up?_ This was supposed to be _simple_ , just help out a member of the NSS, and _I fucked it up like the fuckup I am_.

And then I couldn’t even _fucking apologise because I was too scared._

And I let the emotions show.

I couldn’t be a fucking rock and take it like usual.

“..Three?” The voice hurts me more to hear. Hurts she sees me like this.

I look up, eyes full of tears still. I wipe them out of my eyes to see Eight standing before me.

_She’s going to think you’re a failure._

_She should have left you behind at Kamabo to die. Would have worked out better for her- and you- y’know._

_She’ll feel sorry for you._

The last thought echoes in my head and hurts more than any of the others.

“I’m so sorry.” I sign. “Just my head hurt and I- you’re an Octoling and-”

“I understand. It’s okay. It’ll be okay.” She takes my hands as I’m signing and closes hers around it, effectively preventing me from talking.

I nod. It will be okay. Maybe. 

_She hates you._

_She’s just hiding it until it hurts._

“We should go home. You don’t seem up for more turf today.” She takes me and leads me to the subway platform, where we get on and take a seat.

She’s still holding my hands.

I breathe in deeply. Hold it. Breathe out. What I’ve always done when I get like this.

“You feeling better now?” The question takes me by surprise.

I nod, not wanting to let go of her hands. A stupid thing to want, but right now I’m to distressed to care.

“..okay.” She doesn’t believe me. That’s fair. I wouldn’t believe me. But I know me a hell of a lot better than this little Octoling girl.

I call her a little Octoling girl- she’s at least my age, probably older. I mean, not a challenge. I’m, what, sixteen? Sixteen and a half? Around there. I don’t even know, and that’s quite depressing.

I press myself close to her, leaning my head on her shoulder. I don’t know why, but it calms me a little bit. She doesn’t seem to mind, either.

The subway train rattles and shakes and I’m transported back to that day-

_The ground shakes-_

_My hand trembles on my gun-_

_I look them in the eye-_

“Three? You okay?” Eight’s pulling me to my feet. It’s our stop in Roseport.

I smile and nod. I don’t want those memories right now. I feel awful enough already.

We walk out of the subway station, back to my house. Eight’s leading me, and I stumble after her. Why can I not walk? Why am I so incompetent ever since-

_This is her fault, you know._

_She’s doing this to you._

_She’s making you like this._

_Leave her. Leave her and never return._

We make it back to my house, and I pull the key out and fumble with the lock. After a minute, we’re in the small, wooden house (painted orange by me) and the door is locked again.

“I’m okay. Really.” I sign. I walk over to my weapons and carefully put the N-Zap ‘89 back where it should go. Coming back, I see Eight staring at her new phone, confused.

“Three? Help me with this?” She asks, looking up at me, face highlighted by the glow of the screen. I walk over, and we spend a good twenty minutes trying to figure out how to set the phone up, but in the end manage to.

I take my phone and begin helping her get onto the **NSS Group Chat** we have set up on Webmaster, and after a few minutes the screen pops up with a message:

 **■Webmaster■ > Eight has been added to the chatroom ** **_NSS Group Chat_ ** **by Agent 3**

Eight> Did this work

Eight> Three did this work

Agent 3> yeah

**■Webmaster■ > Marie has joined the chatroom**

Marie> Hey! You got Eight’s phone working?

Agent 3> yeah

Agent 3> thanks Marie

**■Webmaster■ > Agent 3 has left the chatroom**

**■Webmaster■ > Eight has left the chatroom**

I shut off the phone, and Eight looks up at me happily, her phone off too. Considering the time my phone had been when I last checked was 1:13. Meaning I still have hours before I can go sleep.

“Hey. Do you like baking?” I ask, and she shrugs.

“I never got to try it. I’d love to try though!” Eight says, tucking her phone away in her pocket and staring eagerly at me. “How do you bake?”

I get up, walking to the kitchen with Eight following. Thank Cod most baking supplies don’t go bad easily. Getting a recipe out, we begin working to gather the ingredients and make a cake, taking us the better part of the day.

\--

I sit on the couch with Eight, both of us having recently showered and changed. She seems tired, which I can’t blame her for. She’s half-asleep already, on me no less.

“Hey. Look. I’m sorry for earlier. I didn’t mean to snap at you.” I’m not paying attention to the signs coming from my hands, just knowing they’re more honest than they would be if I thought. “I was stressed and again, fought your kind for years. I… I assumed the worst.”

“It’s okay. I promise. I get it.” I look at her and she looks sincere. The sunset hits her eyes in a way that almost makes them glow, and it’s beautiful, in a way. Alien, and maybe an enemy, but still beautiful.

I feel my cheeks go warm, ink rushing to them. Eight must notice, because she giggles a little bit- Cod, I love that noise- and she touches my cheek, making it go more orange.

“From what I’ve seen, Inklings do this when they’re embarrassed. What embarrassed you?” Good question. I don’t get touched often, that’s probably it.

“I don’t usually have to talk to people this much. Just NSS shit sometimes.” My hands ache, to be fair. “Let’s get you up to your room.” 

“My room? Isn’t it yours?” Eight asks, accent thicker than usual and speech somewhat slurred with sleepiness. “I can sleep down here if you want.”

“No. You’re my guest. You’ve slept in awful places all our life, if what I’ve seen is any example, and you deserve better.” I stand up, and with some reluctance she follows me to my- her- room.

I flick the light off, and take a blanket for myself. Eight sits on the bed, eventually laying down on top of the covers. 

“If you need anything, I’ll be downstairs on the couch.” I say. “Night, Eight.” I close the door with a soft _click_ as it latches and begin my nightly routine.

I check myself in the bathroom mirror. My scar from the teal sanitized ink gunk doesn't seem any more healed, and when I touch it, it burns.

Like in my nightmare.

..weird.

I brush my beak, splash some cold water in my face. As I’m blinking it out, I see my reflection in the mirror a tad different.

I have teal hair, and the gunk is back on my face. My eyes are the awful shade of blue like my hair, and I seem to be delighting in the corruption. I have ink stains- the same color as Eight’s- and this doesn't bother reflection-me at all.

I blink again and it’s gone. 

_Get it together, Three. You’re scaring yourself for nothing._

I turn the lights off, check the front door. It’s locked. I go around, turning all the lights off. I check in on Eight last, who seems to be asleep, curled up around herself. I smile to myself- she’s cute like that. Heading back downstairs, I settle myself on the couch, resting my head on a pillow and covering myself with a blanket. I turn the TV on, so I can hear voices as I drift into a deep sleep.

\--

 **■Webmaster■ > Eight has created the chatroom ** **_NSS without Three_ **

Eight> Hey guys

Eight> I don’t think Three’s okay

Eight> She said something about her head hurting and after that yell-signed at me

**■Webmaster■ > Agent 1 has joined the chatroom**

Agent 1> hey whats this

Agent 1> oh hi 8

Agent 1> that’s

Agent 1> unusual

Eight> I figured

Eight> I’m worried about her

Eight> She also had a bad dream this morning that resulted in her screaming at me to stop

Eight> Verbally screaming

Eight> She brushed it off and wouldn't tell me why she was screaming

Agent 1> oh shit

Agent 1> thats really not good

Agent 1> she Just Doesn’t Talk

Agent 1> like period

**■Webmaster■ > Marie has joined the chatroom**

Marie> What?

Marie> Three has never spoken a word to me in the past two years.

Agent 1> same

Eight> I’ll tell you guys if anything else happens

Eight> She seems to be okay currently

Eight> She thinks I’m asleep so she’s sleeping

Agent 1> wait yall dont sleep in the same room?

Eight> Not tonight?

Agent 1> k

Agent 1> night eight and marie

**■Webmaster■ > Agent 1 has left the chatroom**

Marie> I should be going. Night Eight, sleep well.

**■Webmaster■ > Marie has left the chatroom**

Eight> Goodnight

**■Webmaster■ > Eight has left the chatroom**

\--

 **■Webmaster■ > Agent 4 has joined the chatroom ** **_get 3 and 8 together_ **

Agent 4> hey

Agent 4> they’re so cute together guys

Agent 4> three actually got eight an ink tank earlier and shit

Agent 4> it was Adorable On A Level I Relate To

**■Webmaster■ > Marie has joined the chatroom**

**■Webmaster■ > Agent 1 has joined the chatroom**

Agent 1> ik theyre so cute together

Agent 1> like my COD JUST ADMIT YOU LOVE THE OTHER ALREADY

Agent 1> yknow like that

Agent 4> yeah

Agent 1> 3 wont though cause shes Stubborn

Marie> Okay, so what’s the plan?

Agent 1> send them off on a mission together?

Marie> Are you sure that’s a good idea? Eight said Three wasn’t feeling well today.

Agent 4> just read that

Agent 4> can’t believe three talks tbh

Agent 4> recon mission for them? At like,, the nice, Very Safe one?

Marie> Yeah, I’ll talk to Gramps about it.

**■Webmaster■ > CraigCuttlefish has joined the chatroom**

CraigCuttlefish> I was mentioned?

CraigCuttlefish> Wait what is this? Is this about Three liking Eight and being in denial and Eight being too oblivious to notice she likes Three?

Marie> Hi gramps! We were wondering if we could send Eight and Three on a recon mission to a very safe area?

Marie> Yeah.

CraigCuttlefish> I see

CraigCuttlefish> Young love..

Agent 1> so are you helping us or not

Agent 4> ^

CraigCuttlefish> Yes

CraigCuttlefish> I’ll send them out tomorrow

Agent 1> k thx gramps

Agent 4> thanks gramps

Agent 4> night

Marie> Thanks, Gramps!!

**■Webmaster■ > Agent 4 has left the chatroom**

**■Webmaster■ > Agent 1 has left the chatroom**

**■Webmaster■ > Marie has left the chatroom**

**■Webmaster■ > CraigCuttlefish has left the chatroom**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> god im tired. i had this mostly done already when i posted chapter 1, don't expect them this close together next time!  
> ..i spoil yall.  
> \--  
> Comments are lovely! If you want to post one, I read them all (and try to respond).


	3. Recon: Sector 1-2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three's first mission since getting back from Kamabo, and Eight's there too, but some things take an unexpected turn as Three remembers some of the things that made her into the Inkling she is today, and Eight tells us a little bit about Octoling life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [WARNING: Abuse]  
> Italicised paragraph starting with "The ground shakes-" and ending with "I’m being picked up and-" is where you're gonna want to skip for that!  
> \--  
> Sorry this took a while! I've been busy with schoolwork (and some other stuff) but here it is!

I sleep well- a pleasant change after yesterday’s nightmare. My dreams are about myself and Eight, mostly. After all, she is my roommate. 

I open my eyes to find light streaming into the room, illuminating an Octoling sitting near my feet, watching the TV.

My hand reaches down to where my gun would be and I grasp nothing. For a second, I panic until the Octoling turns towards me and I see it’s Eight. I let out a sigh of relief, and scold myself for forgetting she’s here.

_ You could have killed her! _

_..is that not your goal? _

_ No! _

_ Just wait. She’ll leave and hurt you. _

“Sleep well?” I sign, tapping her shoulder. She jumps, and springs to attention while saying something in the warbling Octo language, before seeing it’s just me.

“I’m sorry, Three. Habit. I slept fine.” She says, relaxing and settling back down on the couch as I sit up, shaking my head as if I could shake the sleepiness out like that.

“That’s good.” I glance at the TV to see what she’s watching. It’s a kids cartoon about this Inkling and a jellyfish who go around defending Inkopolis from the Octolings. 

As I watch, the Inkling says, “oh no! An Octarian!” and the screen cuts to a cartoonish Octoling, goggle-wearing and gripping an Octoshot. Its beak was full of sharp teeth, instead of just the three that were usually seen.

Eight looks confused with this portrayal of Octarians, but doesn’t say anything. The cartoon cuts back to the Inkling and jelly, the Inkling dodging ink sprayed by the Octoling, and the Inkling pulls out a splattershot, inking her way to the Octo as the jelly stays behind- in front of two Inklings, likely a couple.

The inkling makes it to the Octoling, who smiles evilly. “You won’t win this time, Chiya!” The Octo raises her octoshot, which the inkling- Chiya, I assume- knocks out of her hands and presses her splattershot to the Octo’s chest.

“Leave these people alone or I’ll splat you, Kali!” The Inkling says, pressing her weapon closer to the Octoling’s chest. With an annoyed grumble, the Octoling turns to octopus form and super jumps off into the distance.

Faintly heard, Kali- the octoling- screams, “I’ll get you next time, mark my words!”

I glance over at Eight, who looks rather confused. “Why was Kali without her squad?” She asks me, head tilted slightly to one side.

“It’s a kid’s C-A-R-T-O-O-N. They don’t know what Octo life is like.” I reply, and a spike of guilt strikes me as I realise I don’t really, either. I do kind of, better than most Inklings, but still not well.

“What’s Octoling life like?” I ask, and Eight frowns for a second.

“Very hard. I knew my mother until I was three, and then I was trained in the highest military academy due to my mostly good genes.

“After that, I was going to become an engineer but my squad was dispatched to fight against the one who ended up taking down Octavio. We were told if that somehow happened, we were to kill the intruder and set Octavio free, but the music- what do you call it- freed us. I actually did fight against the one before the music got to me, and took them down. They were at my mercy, until the Squid Sisters took you.”

This startles me. I thought I had done a good job of hiding it was me- I changed ink color every time, and only used my natural color a few times, one being the final fight. And come to think of it, I do remember an Octo beating me- once- before Callie and Marie had saved me from it.

My face must reveal shock, as Eight hurriedly rushes to correct her mistake. “No- I mean I recognised your fighting style from them when I was fighting you when you were controlled and that time a few years ago. No one else knows who you are- I swear.” She seems worried, rushing words.

“Okay. Okay. Thank you.” I reply, letting out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. I hear my phone ding, and I take it, seeing a text from Cap’n Cuttlefish.

**■Webmaster■ > ** **_NSS Group Chat_ **

CraigCuttlefish> Three and Eight, at 10:30 am report to Cuttlefish Cabin, I have a job for you two

The time is 08:59, meaning we have an hour and a half. That’s a relief.

I glance back at Eight, who’s attention has become fixated on the TV again as the next episode of  _ Splatoon Control _ , as the kid’s cartoon is called, starts playing, displaying the green-haired Inkling who stars in the show saying something.

I turn my attention to another task- making breakfast. I get up from the couch, beginning to rummage through my cabinets to get all of the ingredients for pancakes out. It’s not a hard task- after all, I’ve been making them for breakfast every time I had a mission that day, and the recipe still stands out in my mind as some I remember.

I set a pan on the stovetop, a slab of butter in it. I’ll heat it later when the mix is ready. My hands move precisely as I reach for my flour, sugar, and salt, mixing them in a bowl I pull down with my tentacles, the only thing I really use them for. In another bowl I retrieve, I add an egg and milk- thank Cod Callie got me some yesterday while me and Eight were baking- , along with some butter and vanilla extract. Turning away from the ingredients, I turn on the stovetop and then pour the wet ingredients into the dry bowl, mixing them with a whisk.

Leaving the batter to sit, I look over at Eight, who is completely immersed in the cartoon. She’s leaning forward, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. She’s watching the Inkling protagonist and her jellyfish companion doing some cartoony Tower Control match versus a team of Octolings, the Octo from the previous episode the leader and likely the primary antagonist, called Kali if the last episode was a good indication.

I walk over and sit next to her. “Having fun?” I ask, letting my eyes show mild amusement at the situation.

“Very! Inklings are very strange. No self-respecting Octoling would waste their time on this, but since it is here I will watch it.” She says in response, then gasps as the Inkling protagonist loses the tower and the jellyfish gets its arm caught under a box.

“I’m going to go finish the food.” I laugh at how much attention Eight’s giving a kid’s cartoon. Not super surprised about it, but it still amuses me.

I turn to get some plates down. As I begin pouring the batter into the pan I kick open the fridge gently. I’ll get some berries out soon.

I flip the pancake, turning away and getting some frozen berries out, along with syrup. Eight’s still watching the cartoon, now the characters on a Rainmaker battle. My personal favorite mode, before they overhauled the old Rainmaker designs in favor of the more Booyah-bomb-esque explosions.

I take the pancake and flip it onto a plate, following my standard way of doing it. I make three more pancakes in total, then begin washing the dishes. Satisfied, I walk over to Eight and tap her shoulder.

“Food’s ready, if you want some.” I sign as she looks at me.

Her face breaks into a wide grin. “Thank you so much!” I’m mildly confused with the reaction, but that’s okay. If Eight’s happy, that’s good.

I sit next to Eight, who’s already drowned her pancakes in syrup and is stabbing them very aggressively with a fork before eating any. I, on the other hand, pour a little syrup on it and add a few frozen blackberries. They’re good pancakes, I note.

Checking the time, we have an hour until it’s time to get to Cuttlefish Cabin. I finish the pancakes, then sign to Eight. “In an hour we have your first official NSS mission. We’ll leave in twenty minutes.” 

“Sounds exciting! I’ll go get ready then.” Eight stands up and efficiently washes her plate and fork before setting them to dry. She walks upstairs, and I finish my pancakes.

_ I wonder what Octoling life is like. I’ll ask Eight to elaborate. _

_ And why didn’t she mention her father? Surely Octos have fathers? _

_ Genes? Are Octarians obsessed with genetics? _

_..I wonder too much about what Octolings are like. _

_..this is all because...Mother… was a bio major. For sure. _

I shake the thoughts from my head, mostly the last one.

She doesn't deserve to have time in my head.

But I will ask Eight about Octoling life cycles and such later, on mission if it’s not too physical. If it’s a recon or a guard, we’ll have plenty of time while kicking over rocks to check a Great Octoweapon isn’t under there or sitting and making sure Octavio doesn’t float down from space to kill us all.

I walk upstairs after rinsing my dish and putting it in the sink. I’ll wash it later.

Opening the door, Eight’s finishing pulling on a suit of armor with the Kamabo logo on it and is positioning a gold toothpick in her hair. “Hi, Three. Does this work for agent gear?” She says, moving the toothpick down a bit before apparently deciding that spot works.

“Yes.” I sign back as I dig out my agent gear. Heading to the bathroom, I see the ink scar hasn’t healed much. When I touch it, it still burns.

_ You should get that checked out, you know. _

_ I should. Sometime this week I will. _

I pull on my agent gear, turning the headset on and walking back to my bedroom to grab my Hero Shot from it’s spot. I see Eight sitting on the bed, frowning slightly but as I walk in she looks up and smiles.

“Hi! Are we going now?” She says, tucking her phone in her pocket. I wonder what she was doing, but it’s not my place to ask. I nod in response to the question and pull the Hero Shot out of a compartment I made in my closet for it.

Eight flinches slightly at the sight of me in my full Agent 3 gear, and I smile apologetically. “Sorry. I forget you’ve fought against me. Ready to go?”

“Yeah. Do I need a weapon?” Eight asks, hopping off the bed.

“Sheldon will have something for you.” I reply, and we head off.

\--

An hour later, we stand in front of Cuttlefish Cabin while Cap’n walks out, Sheldon at his side.

“..and that’s my thought process for- oh! Hello Eight! Three!” The little hermit crab grins up at us and I wave in return. Eight smiles at him.

“Hello, Three. And Eight. I have a mission for you- simple.” Cap’n starts. Oh no. “It’s a recon of Zone 1-2 to make sure the dome isn’t harboring anything dangerous.” 

I sigh quietly. This’ll be boring. But it will give me a chance to ask Eight more about Octolings.

“Understood.” Eight replies. “Do you have any weapons I could use if I need to?”

Sheldon steps forward. “Yeah! I have this super-modded octoshot to make it work more like the Hero Shot Three has, and give it capacity to make Splat Bombs, Autobombs, and Burst Bombs! Also, Three, sometime I’d like to replace the Seekers on your set with Autobombs, they tend to work more effectively.”

I nod in acknowledgement. Sheldon hands Eight an octoshot that has obviously been tinkered with quite a bit. It’s much smaller than the usual octoshot, and there are subtle differences to the shape.

“Eight needs a headset.” I sign, and Cap’n nods.

“One second, squiddo.” He turns and heads into the cabin and returns with a headset akin to the one Four uses. Much more sleek than the one I use. Eight, with mild difficulty, puts the headset on.

“How do I use it?” She asks.

“Behind the left ear, you’ll find a switch. Turn it on and you can talk, but you’ll always be able to hear us.” Sheldon explains.

“Now, you two are off. Remember- 1-2 for any danger.” Cap’n says, shooing us away. I roll my eyes and begin walking to Zone 1-2, Eight right behind me.

“You have our domes labelled with numbers?” She asks as I begin the hike to the kettle that’ll transport us there.

“Yeah. We don’t know what they’re actually called so we use sets of numbers to identify them.” It makes sense to me, but not Eight, I guess.

“Okay.” She glances around at the concrete and grass making up this part of the valley.

As we walk, I keep a hand on my Hero Shot and eventually break the silence. “How- what’s Octoling life like? Are there male Octolings?” 

EIght looks over. “Yeah, there are. They’re much rarer than females- only one I know personally is DJ Octavio. In a clutch of eggs, I believe it’s a one-in-ten chance one egg will be male. And a clutch of eggs is five or so if you’re really lucky, usually it’s about two. This means we cannot waste our males with fighting, so Inklings never see them. They’re with the females of the best genes, mating.”

That sounds very weird to me. After all, for us, we have a lot more males than Octolings and we never  _ have  _ to have children, something the Octarians seem to require from good-gened females.

“Interesting.” I reply. Eight doesn’t seem to find it weird at all, which makes sense. She grew up around it.

We arrive at the kettle, and Eight promptly goes into octopus form and slips through the grate up top. I follow suit, and the kettle shoots us to Zone 1-2.

\--

I roll as I land, a practiced maneuver I’ve done over the past two and a half years. My Hero Shot is in my hand as I face whatever’s in front of me.

Ink pounds in my veins as I see an Octarian shape- I pull the trigger of my Hero Shot as the tentacled monster in a scrapped metal contraption makes a short, garbled sound in Octarian- a noise they tend to make when they’re surprised, from what I can tell.

The Octarian explodes in a burst of green ink- our color this time- as I lower the gun. Behind me, I hear Eight. “Was it necessary to splat him?” Her tone isn’t quite condescending, but it’s close.

I nod. “He would have shot at me or warned others.” Though I did forget she was there, so maybe I should feel worse about killing one of her kind

She frowns. “If you’re sure.” Her tone is unconvinced but unwilling to argue. For that, I’m grateful- I really don’t have the will to fight right now.

I suck in a breath, let it out, and glance around. The kettle behind us leads back to the kettle near Cuttlefish Cabin. The valley here, the dome we’ve jumped to, is a meadow in an Octo-made forest. The dome stretches far above me, the light replicating sunlight. 

“Did you live in an area like this when you were in the army?”

“Yeah. No. Kind of. It was a lot darker and we lived in caverns and the cell we were kept in was so dark at night, I couldn’t see at all, and then we were abused and-” Eight reaches up and touches her front right tentacle, and I see how it seems to have been cut off several times and regrown, a painful process that I haven’t endured much.

“Oh Eight. I’m so sorry.” My hands speak for me, and I hesitantly reach out to touch the regrown tentacle. She lets me. It feels smooth, other than the places it was presumably severed, which are raised and when I run my hand along them, she flinches a little but doesn’t say anything.

She takes my hand in hers and lowers it. “Could you not touch my tentacle?” It’s not harsh, just mildly curious and not-quite pleading. 

I nod. “Of course. Sorry.” I don’t move my hand after I sign the ‘sorry’, instead letting it sit, curled up at my chest. 

_ I didn’t mean to upset her. _

_ Are you sure? After all, she is just an Octoling. _

_ She’s Eight. She’s not  _ just an Octoling _ , as you put it. Speaking of which, who the hell are you? _

_ I speak what we both know to be true. That’s all _ . I can almost hear a sneer as the voice- my voice?- stops.

I force a smile as I lower my hand to rest on my Hero Shot. “Shall we continue?” 

“Sure.” Eight replies and we start walking, my feet taking me along the path I travel all the time while my mind wanders.

\--

_ The ground shakes- _

_ My mother’s voice. “[REDACTED]! Stop! You get back here and listen to me, young lady!” _

_ My head burns as I scream back, “Not like you wanted me anyways!” _

_ My eyes are filled with tears but I keep screaming. “Take Lissa, your precious feminine daughter and LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE!” _

_ “[REDACTED]! You little bitch! You get your ass over here!” My mother screams, and my gase hardens into its now-normal steely expression, eyes betraying nothing. _

_ “No, mother. I’m leaving. Try and stop me, I dare you.” _

_ Hy head is on fire, the ink burning. The custom-made clip against my ear vibrates with an intense energy as the limiter notifies me I have a special ready without it’s intervention. _

_ “Put that special away, [REDACTED]!” I feel her anger in her voice, feel the hate in her eyes. _

_ I shake my head, ink pumping in my ears and all other noise faded, just the rhythmic  _ **_thwump thwump_ ** _ of my heart remained. _

_ She approaches me, my mother does. She doesn’t look scared, just furious.  _

_ “[REDACTED], you have one more chance. Put the special away and nobody gets hurt.”  _

_ “You’re threatening me? And EXPECTING me to BACK DOWN?” I laugh. “ _ **_Never._ ** _ ” My eyes are steel and my muscles are tense, ready for her to make her next move. _

_ Mother’s hand closes around itself and she swings at me with all her might, hitting me in the jaw and the throat and I can’t talk, can barely breathe and then I just- _

_ I close my fist around my limiter and with a scream, jump into the air, orange ink coming off me in waves. I smash back to the ground, ink exploding around me and a garbled cry from my mother, who got splatted- _

_ Oh shit. _

_ I splatted her- _

_ She deserved worse. _

_ I put the limiter back behind my ear and grab all I have- the backpack I’ve been wearing that holds my NSS gear, and a few personal possessions. _

_ Ink is everywhere, and I’m a squid, slipping under the door as I swim in the Splashdown ink and I’m out of that hellhole, the one I’ve lived in for fourteen and a half years, and I begin walking to the hospital, gasping for breath- _

I’m gasping as if I’m still injured, eyes wide and my teal scar throbs painfully as my mind snaps back to the present.

It feels like I can’t breathe, can’t speak, and my head burns and-

I’m on the ground, shaking. Curled up, shaking, ears full of buzzing noises and I can’t see, I  _ can’t, I can’t,  _ **_I can’t I CAN’T-_ **

“Three? Three, are you okay?” Someone’s saying and I don’t know if I’m okay, don’t know what being okay is right now, all I feel is pain and I can’t breathe Eight I can’t breathe please-

The voice- Eight- says more muffled words and what feels like forever later I’m being picked up and-

\--

My eyes flicker open eventually to a wooden ceiling and the faces of Callie and Eight. My head hurts like hell itself, but I can breathe again.

Words fly from Callie’s mouth and only then do I notice the ringing in my ears.

I move my hands- “I’m okay.”

Noise comes back to me, slowly. “Three! You are not okay! You were patrolling with me and out of the blue started gasping and fell and were asking me to do something to help! That is  _ NOT _ normal!”

“I’m fine!” I stubbornly insist, sitting up from the couch I’m on. It hurts like hell, but that’s okay. “How long was I out for?”

“Two hours? Three?” Callie replies, eyes full of worry. “Also, Three. When you were unconscious, you had some blue stuff on your face-”

My eyes widen and I touch my face, the scar burns but-

Fuck.

It’s all goopy and  _ wrong _ , and when I pull my hand away smears of teal ink are on it.

**_You really thought it would be that easy?_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that is how I make my children suffer.  
> No seriously, I love them all but suffer they must. Things get worse before they get better.  
> \--  
> Like it? Hate it? Tell me! I love comments! They make me happy and I'm not sure if they make me work faster, but for the sake of this we'll say they do.


	4. That's not normal/That is normal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three and the NSS figures out she's not as okay as they thought she was, and Eight learns about some Inkling culture and basic emotions that Octolings forbid (or at least discourage) knowledge of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a shorter chapter than usual, but still I hope y'all enjoy it!  
> \--  
> If it wasn't clear enough for anyone for some reason, bold+italics is Tartar and just italics is normal thoughts

I recognise the voice without a beat skipped, and my hands fly into motion.

“What the fuck is T-A-R-T-A-R doing in my head.” I’m beyond furious, more the kind where I get silent and still and my eyes alone betray the rage I’m feeling.

**_The kind of rage you felt with your mother, my dear Three?_ **

_ Shut. The. Fuck. Up. _

_ You tried to kill me, tried to kill my gir- er- Eight, tried to kill us ALL. Why in fuck’s good name should I listen to a goddamn word you say? _

**_What was that you cut off, Three?_ **

**_Seems a lot like girlfriend._ **

**_Something you’d like to admit to the assorted audiences?_ **

I am blushing furiously- not the point. This abomination of abominations is inside my head and I don’t know what he can do, what he can make  _ me _ do.

“Three?” The voice snaps me back to reality. It’s Marie, coming through the door with a bowl of her Seaweed Stew that all good NSS members love.

“Hi.”

“Three, why is your face all orange? Are you okay?” Eight, the paragon of obliviousness that she is, asks. 

Marie and Callie glance at each other with a knowing look that I catch- thanks, guys. I really don’t need you trying to get me and this Octoling I barely know together. She may be a really cute Octoling who I might like  _ just a little bit _ , but I digress.

“I’m fine. Marie, can I have the stew?” I ask, and she nods, handing me the bowl and a spoon.

“Wait, Three. Who’s Tartar?” Callie asks, apparently just registering my earlier signs.

Eight’s eyes widen. “Commander Tartar?” I see so much fear in her eyes and I want to comfort her, but I’m the worst person to do that. Hell, I’m Tartar’s new vessel, I’d be willing to bet. She should just kill me, get this over with.

**_Well, quite the optimist here, I see.._ **

_ Fuck off, Tarface. _

**_Feisty, aren’t we? We can change that, you know._ **

_ Fuck off, Tartar. I mean it. _

**_Very well. No fun if I don’t take it all when you have it all, after all._ **

_ That was too many ‘all’s for me. Now get your own goddamn brain. _

**_My phone was a more adequate vessel than you, Three. Take pride in that._ **

I eat my stew as Eight informs Callie and Marie about all she did, as Cap’n hadn’t been able to explain it in enough detail, I guess. The Octoling eventually sits down next to me, and when she glances at me as if to ask if that’s okay, I shrug and nod.

_ Cod, she’s so cute when she’s focused- _

**_As I said._ **

_ What part of fuck off don’t you get? _

**_..very well._ **

My bowl of stew is finished quickly and Marie gets me more. A quick “love you” is signed at her and I finish the bowl only slightly slower than the last. Getting knocked out really does a number to you.

Setting the bowl on the table in front of me that we’re all gathered around, I ask. “Does anyone have a mirror?”

“Yeah, one sec.” Callie digs around in a small purse and tosses me a compact mirror, which I open quickly.

My face is fine, if not a bit bloodied and pale. However, my scar is practically  _ leaking _ the teal goop, but thankfully when I touch the scar itself it feels normal, if not a  _ lot _ too warm and it hurts-

“Cool. Great. Thanks, Callie. Could someone maybe help me get the goop off my face?” I ask, placing the mirror on the table and sliding it across to Callie. I don’t mean for it to sound rude, but I guess it does, based on the reaction from the Squid Sisters. 

“I’ll help!” Eight says. “Could someone get me some medical supplies? I don’t know where they’re kept, sorry..” She looks around nervously, but as soon as she’d heard the first sentence, Marie was up and gathering all she thought may help. A minute or so later, Eight had a sizable pile of bandages, washcloths, and painkillers.

I watch her face as she carefully takes a washcloth with warm water and moves it across the teal-stained part of my face. It hurts like hell, but I don’t make a sound, instead focusing on her look of concentration.

Her eyes are squinted, and her tongue is just barely sticking out of the corner of her beak. She seems to be biting the inside of her cheek, too. It’s very cute.

“Three, do you want to stay here for the rest of the day and the night?” Callie asks. “After all, you’re in no shape to be doing much of anything, and you being alone with Eight may be what this Tartar guy wants.”

I nod, wincing at the pain this brings. Not that I’m that sore, but the scar is so damn sensitive!

“I’ll stay too. I don’t want to be alone after Kamabo, and knowing Tartar is still out there..” She shudders a little. “I’d rather be here.”

“Three, are you okay staying in the bedroom? You can stay out here too, if you want. Whatever’s most comfortable.” Callie asks me, and I shrug.

“Here.”

“Okay. I’ll tell our employers we can’t make it early tomorrow. I assume you want us here?” Callie asks after a second.

“Yes.”

“Okay. I’ll be back in a second.” Callie presses a button and steps outside, saying indistinct words to her phone.

“Eight, do you want the bedroom?” Marie says after a few moments. “I can stay out here with Three.”

“No. I’ll stay here. If that’s okay. After all, this is my fault she’s all hijacked and, as Three would put it, and shit.” Eight says with a slight giggle as I look at her with pride.

“Eight, I could kiss you right now. I am so proud of you.” I don’t realise what I’ve just said until it’s too late and now I’m a very bright orange and Marie is laughing her ass off and Eight just looks confused.

“What? What did she say? What am I missing?” Eight asks, looking from me, to Marie, to me again.

“Nothing you need to worry about, Eight.” I sign. My face is now  _ very warm  _ and  _ very orange _ and she’s still right next to me and can see this all-

“..okay.” She’s obviously not happy with this answer, but goes back to washing the goo off my face and I didn’t realise how warm her hands were and I want that warmth against my face, but she moves her hand. Fortunately, it’s back against my head soon again, and a little part of me dies in the best way.

It’ll be a miracle if I survive the day.

\--

[EIGHT’S POV]

I smile as I see Three fall asleep. I note her face is no longer orange, so she must not be embarrassed. Though my face is warm and I don’t feel embarrassed, and when I look at myself in the mirror Cuttlefish Cabin has, my face is the magenta color my hair is.

Weird.

And earlier- Three’d signed something and I got something about me and then something I didn’t recognize, but then she was proud of me.

That was a good feeling when she said that. I felt like I did now when she said that, and I’d be willing to bet my face was all reddish-pink when she said that.

_ I should ask Marie what that means! _

I nod to myself, and wash off my hands. It feels good, running them under warm water.

Drying them off, I walk back out to the main room, where Three’s still curled up on the couch and looks very cute like that. Marie’s in the small kitchen, Callie’s still outside, discussing something on her phone.

I walk into the kitchen and Marie glances up. “Hi, Eight.” She’s making more stew, probably for the rest of us. After all, it’s nearly one and we’ve all been panicking over Three.

“Hi, Marie. Can I ask you something?” I say, fidgeting with my hands.

“Go ahead.”

“What does it mean if an Inkling’s face is their ink color and they’re not embarrassed? Or an Octoling’s, for that matter?”

Marie laughs a little. “They are embarrassed- for example, when Three does it when she’s not obviously embarrassed, she is, but embarrassed at her own thoughts. Why?”

“I was wondering, because Three’s face is orange a lot when I’m around her.”  _ And my face is red a lot?  _ I don’t add the last part, because it seems unnecessary.

“Oh. I forgot Octolings don’t really do the whole ‘love’ thing a lot.” Marie says, looking like she just figured out a great mystery.

“Do the whole  _ what _ thing?”

“Love. Like when you really, really like someone and want to spend time around them. Or when you feel safe around someone. You understand that, right?”

“Yeah. I feel that way around you guys! I feel safe around you all.” I say. “I trust you all.”

Marie nods in acknowledgement. “That would be familial love, how you trust us as your family. Right?”

“Yeah. But around Three, I want to spend more time around her and like touching her? Is that normal?” I see nothing wrong with the question, but Marie apparently finds it hilarious.

“That’s normal, Eight.” She says after she’s finished laughing. “Talk to her about these feelings sometime. Maybe not now, but whenever you feel comfortable.”

“Okay! Thanks, Marie!” I say. “Can I do anything to help you here?”

“Can you get down some bowls? And the pepper?” Marie says after a second of thinking. “They’ll be over there.” She points to a cabinet, and I pick up the pepper with a tentacle and get out three bowls, setting the pepper near Marie and the bowls on the counter.

“Anything else?”

“Er- not that I can think of. If you want, there’s a shooting range outside if you want to get a better feel for the new Octoshot you got?” Marie says.

“Sure! Sounds fun! Thanks for the help, Marie!” I cheerfully say as I grab my ink tank and the Octoshot, and head outside, where Callie is still on the phone. She smiles at me as I walk over to the stuffed dummies.

Standing a few feet away from them, I raise the light gun and pull the trigger and the ink is coating the dummy in just a few seconds. Interesting.

\--

[THREE’S POV]

I wake up what feels like forever later, feeling a warmth around me. Weird.

Opening my eyes, I see it’s Eight, curled up around me. Which is sweet and all, but we’ve established I’m possessed by Commander Tartar. So really, it’s more dangerous than anything else.

I don’t move her, though. Just let her sleep. After all, I’m taking far too much pleasure in knowing she doesn’t hate me still.

_ You know that’ll change one day. _

_ She’ll hate you soon enough. _

_..Tartar? Was that you?  _ The AI is probably messing with my mind, making me think things I don’t think.

**_Not me, Three. That was all you, and you know it._ **

_ … _

_ Fuck off. _

I carefully put an arm around Eight’s sleeping form, and close my eyes again. Not so much to try and sleep, but more just to not have to face the guilt of not being good enough to resist Eight’s murderer so many times over.

_ I want to go back to sleep. _

**_Sucks to be you, then._ **

I assume it’s probably midnight. I really don’t want to wake anyone up, so I spend the night alone with my thoughts. I guess Tartar isn’t paying attention, or he’s just listening.

I’m constantly aware of Eight’s body pressing against me, and I like it and I hate that.

_ Just hate her. _

_ So much easier, frankly. _

_ After all, why do you love her? _

_ Foolish. You’ve killed her kind for years. _

_ What makes you think you can be forgiven? _

_..I think I can.. _

_ After all.. I think Eight forgives me. Understands I have to.. kill them.. if I want to live, myself. _

_ Tell yourself that. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much less action than usual, but I like how it turned out!  
> Comments are appreceated greatly! It's always nice to see people who enjoy my writing!


	5. Sitting in the Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three and Eight go out, and Eight learns more about surface life, especially the weather. Meanwhile, another Octarian comes to the surface..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [insert statement about how generic it is to have characters bonding in the rain]  
> I love the rain, and so it rained.  
> \--  
> For everyone's reference who hasn't been researching squid anatomy, the club is the big part with the suckers at the end of the tentacle, and the mantle would be essentially the colored part of the Inkling's hair.  
> Yes, this is relevent.

[??? POV]

The facility is mostly empty. Ever since Tartar left, it’s been like that. It’s kind of nice, meaning I can work alone, without him asking about my work.

Apparently, one of my little sisters had killed him. Personally, I find that interesting. After all, Tartar was a commander for a reason. Without him, we don’t have much. Just me and my less fortunate siblings.

“Test Subject 8,888. Commander Tartar wishes to speak to you.” One of my little sisters says, her voice flat and monotone. Her tentacles- a blue to green- obscure the glasses I know are covering her black-and-teal eyes.

“Of course I will go, little sister. Where is Commander Tartar at the moment?” I’m mildly surprised to hear the Commander is back, but the glasses I wear obscure that.

“The command room.” I don’t know this little one’s name, but she smiles at me with a degree of difficulty. “Try to not get yourself killed. Kamabo would be much less without your music.”

“Thank you. You too.” I walk past her, pushing the brim of my hat up and sweeping my long tentacle behind my rounded ear. The command room is barely used. Or, it was barely used after 10,008 got here and the Inklings fell with her.

The hallways are still empty for the most part. As I make my way to the command room, I pass a few of my little sisters, most of whom nod in acknowledgement at my passing them.

I open the door, hands behind my back after the door was opened. As was to be expected, the Commander was in a telephone again. 

“Commander Tartar.” I say. The AI has been gone a week, and distant for several months.

“Dedf1sh.” Commander Tartar pronounces it ‘deadfish’, as I prefer. “I am glad you came.” His voice doesn’t sound glad, instead just monotone.

“I have called you here for a very specific reason. As you know, I have been monitoring the so-called Agent Three.” I didn’t know, but I nod anyways. “I am sending you to the surface to help her in any way possible. This means you will lay down your life for her, and by extension me, if need be.”

I nod. “Understood, Commander. When am I leaving?”

“Now. I have the location marked on your CQ-80.” The Commander says. “You are dismissed, Test Subject 8,888.”

I turn and leave the room, pulling out my CQ-80 and following the map to the marked location. It leads me to a door I didn’t know existed until now, and when I try to open it, it does so easily.

I step through it and a winding staircase is all I can see. I suppose I have to go up it.

I begin walking, though I don’t quite know where I’m going. I assume I follow the staircase.

**_Take off the glasses._ **

_ Yes, Commander. _

I remove the glasses and tuck them in a pocket, and adjust the brim of my hat to cover my eyes. It’s far too bright without the glasses.

\--

Hours later, I come to a ruined subway station. Graffiti covers the walls, and posters advertising an Octoling and an Inkling band. I feel like I know the Octoling from somewhere, but that’s absurd.

I close the door I came through behind me, noting the eye symbol of Kamabo Corp. on the door. The handle clicks with the sound of it locking behind me. No going back now. Just forward.

Faint light shines down from a stairway on the other side of the tracks. Interesting.

I hop down to the tracks, then scramble up the other side. With how much rubble there is from ages of disuse, it’s not a challenge.

I walk up to the faint light, and looking up it leads to a city, from what I can see. A gate covers the entrance, but it won’t be any issue to hop over. Though I am really tired, so I may rest here a bit.

Behind the entrance, I sit down and close my eyes. Sleep comes quickly, and thankfully no new memories reveal themselves.

When I wake, the light from the tunnel outside is much stronger, and I squint as it blinds me. I move a tentacle to cover my right eye, as I usually have it, and walk up the stairs to the metal gate. I hop over it with ease, and-

Oh my Cod.

There are Inklings everywhere, and on a giant screen on this tower-thing, there’s an Inkling and an.. Octoling?

I know her.

I think I do, at least.

Memories of her spark up in my mind, and a name comes to me as I let them wash over me.

_ Marina _ .

Her name is  _ Marina _ , if I’m to be trusted.

Which I’m not to be trusted.

But it’s all I have to go off of, so I’ll find her. Plus, she’s an Octoling. And I barely speak Inkling. 

I begin wandering around the square, eventually seeing the Octoling- Marina, I think- through a window. She’s with an Inkling who’s name I don’t know, but is considerably shorter than her.

I tap on the window after a few seconds of consideration. I know her name, I think. And I remember my old name \- Mizuta. I think. It’s what I remember thinking my name was.

The Inkling looks at the window after I tap it, and a panicked look crosses her face. She grabs Marina’s arm, and she looks at me, standing there awkwardly. As soon as she sees me, she’s panicked too, and the two begin talking in panicked Inkling.

After a minute, the Inkling walks out of the room and I see her a few seconds later, coming out a door to the square near me.

She roughly grabs my arm and drags me into the building, where the Octoling is.

The Inkling says something angrily, but I have no idea what it is. I don’t know why they’re so angry, but the Octoling looks like she doesn’t want to be here and the Inkling wants to splat me, but isn’t yet, for some reason.

“Hello. I am Dedf1sh.” I say in a blank voice. The Inkling looks confused, glancing at the Octarian, but the Octoling understands.

“You’re from Kamabo. You’re a sanitised Octoling. You don’t have a name.” She states, glaring at me.

“I am Dedf1sh, and you are Marina.” I add onto my prior statement. Maybe she’ll listen to me now?

“How do you know my name?” She asks, stepping a little closer to the Inkling, and only then do I notice some other Inklings in the room, most of them looking very confused but ready to defend the Octoling and Inkling.

“I remember you. I think.” I reply. “You were lead of the Flooders Design Team at age 10. Assigned to the General’s wasabi supply unit at 16. Left the same year under mysterious circumstances. Had an interest in music since age 6.” I see her eyes widen, and I guess my memory was accurate.

“Who are you? Rather, who were you?” She asks.

“I believe I was called Mizuta? I don’t much care for that name. I prefer Dedf1sh.” I say in response. “Who is the Inkling here?”

“Miz? You’re alive?” Marina seems shocked. She says something to the Inkling, who seems uncertain but nods. “This is Pearl. She’s a friend of mine.”

“Understood. Is she going to kill me?”

“No. Miz, I’m so sorry I didn’t try to find you or anything.” Marina looks like she’s going to burst into tears, and I assume we were friends in the past. Or in the same unit for something and grew close.

“Pardon my asking, but were we close? Friends?” I say hesitantly. 

“You were one of the only people who I told about my own music-making ambitions. You were fine with it; Cod, Miz, you helped me!” 

“Oh. I was not aware of that.” I say. “Apologies.”

“It’s fine. How’d you get here?”

\--

[THREE’S POV]

I open my eyes to see Eight sitting at my feet, entranced by the TV again. As soon as she sees this, her face turns to me, lighting up in a smile.

“Hello, Three! Good morning!” She says, clicking the ‘pause’ button on the remote. 

“Hi.” I sign. I’ve been stuck here for the past few days, ever since we found out Tartar was in my head.

I stretch my arms above my head, yawn, and look back to Eight, who’s watching me intently.

“What?”

“You seem like you don’t want to be here much.” Eight says, to which I nod in agreement. I don’t like being cooped up, and this really isn’t doing wonders for that.

“If it’s fine with you, I’m going to go walk in a bit.” I sign. “Feel free to join me if you want.”

“Thank you! I would like that. After all, I want to see more of Inkopolis.” She says, hopping off the couch that has become my bed as well as a couch.

I smile and nod to let her know that’s fine. I roll my shoulders and get up, heading to the bathroom as Eight presumably changes into clothes for today.

In the bathroom, I lock the door and look at myself in the mirror. I look fine, like a healthy Inkling, just the scar getting a brighter teal. It doesn’t even hurt much anymore, so I don’t bother being super gentle as I pull on a shirt. 

Splashing some water on my face, I breathe in deeply and open the door to the hall. The bedroom door is shut, and so I knock on it gently.

“One minute, Three!” Eight’s voice calls out to me, and after a few seconds it opens to reveal Eight, her hair tied up with a golden toothpick. She looks.. really nice.

“Do you care where we go?” I ask as she shuts the door behind her.

“Not really.” 

“I know just the place then.”

\--

Half an hour later, we’re on the subway to Inkopolis Plaza. It’s basically deserted, now that all of the Inklings are hanging out at the Square, but it’s always a comforting spot to me. It’s where I met Cap’n, Callie, and Maire first, and where my home really was for a while. 

Eight seems to be enjoying the ride, as she’s peering out the window, hand pressed to the glass. She looks so happy, and that forces a small smile onto my face, something I allow.

As we’re sitting, or at least I’m sitting and Eight is kneeling on the seat, looking out the window, I see a familiar Inkling.

“Hey! Three! Eight!” A short, yellow-haired Inkling waves, looking mildly relieved to have found someone she knows. I can’t say I blame her. After all, I am pretty great, if I do say so myself.

_ No you’re not. _

_ Shut up. Five minutes. _

“Hi, Ali.” I only sign the ‘A’ of her name, but she knows I’m referring to her. “What brings you here today?”

“I could ask you two the same thing. Aren’t you under Gramps’ orders to stay home?” She plops down in the seat next to me. 

I am, but that’s irrelevant. I do nod, though. “Don’t tell.”

“‘Kay, Three.” She rolls her eyes and grins. “Eight! Why’d you let this grumpy-pants take you out when you could be hanging with me?” The way it’s phrased is a joke is evident to me, but I can’t help but feel a small pang of jealousy. Very weird.

Eight finally pries herself away from the window. “Hi, Four! Three’s not  _ always _ grumpy.” I wasn’t expecting her to defend me. “Just usually.”

_ Nevermind. So much for trust, I guess. _ For once, the tone of my thoughts are joking.

Eight and Four laugh a little as I feel myself blush, and I shrink down in my seat. 

“On a less insulting topic to poor Three,” Aki and Eight burst into laughter again, “have either of you heard about that new musical? The one about the ghost Inkling?” I haven’t, so I motion for her to continue. “Vega or something? Apparently it’s super good.”

“Sounds cool.” I reply. I have always loved musicals, since I was a little squid. And I know Four knows that. Probably why she brought it up.

“What’s a musical?” Eight asks, and this sends me into laughter, which is, for me, smothering a laugh behind a fist. 

Ignoring me, Four explains. “It’s when a bunch of people tell a story through acting and singing. Like a play, but with music?”

Eight nods. “I think I understand. We had a play once, I think. It was about what happens if you disobey Octavio. I think the Octoling character ended up getting splatted-” at this, me and Four are disgusted, that much is evident. “-She respawned, I think..”

Me and Four look at each other and I sign. “We’re taking her to see a real play someday, right?”

“Absolutely.” Four signs back at me, and I forget she can do that sometimes. I forget that all of the NSS is basically as fluent as I am, and I have so little experience reading signs it always catches me off guard. 

“Wait, Three?” Eight says. “You called Four ‘A’? What’s that mean?”

“It’s my name. Ali. You can call me Ali or Four.” Ali, thankfully, explains. “Probably best to call me Ali in public.” 

“Oh. Okay.” Eight says, and at this I see the familiar shape of Inkopolis Tower out the window. Our stop’s soon.

I check around me, and seeing I didn’t drop anything, poke Eight’s shoulder. “Time to go soon.”

“Where are you two going?” Four asks. “A  _ date? _ ” The last word was in an annoyingly sing-song voice, and my expression reveals the unamusement I feel.

“No.” I sign, fighting to keep my emotions under control.

**_You’d like that, my dear Agent Three. Wouldn’t you?_ **

_ I.. _

_ Shut up. _

The train pulls to a stop, and Eight and I hop off. In the time we were on the subway, the weather turned from a cloudy day to a light drizzle, and I love it. Tilting my face back and closing my eyes, I feel the raindrops lightly touch my face, water dripping from my ears and tentacles. It feels good, the cold water running down my face.

“Three? What’s this stuff falling from the sky?” I hear Eight ask, and I sign without thinking or seeing. 

“It’s rain, and I love it.” I shake off my head, my long tentacles whipping around me until I grab them to still them. 

“It’s not dangerous?”

“Not at all.” I begin walking out of the plaza, Eight right beside me. I know where I’m going.

The roar of the river soon is heard over the sound of our shoes hitting the wet cement and the rain against the buildings.

I lead Eight to a small park right by the bay mouth, the river feeding into the ocean here. It’s a beautiful place, and despite the rain, I sit down on the bench overlooking the ocean, greenery all around me. It’s a comforting place, somewhere I found sometime a few years ago.

Eight, after a few minutes, sits next to me. We don’t say anything, just enjoy the view. 

I didn’t realise how tired I was until Eight sits next to me. I don’t mention that I’m tired, just pull up a song on my phone. A song about two Inkling lovers who want to be together but can’t. It’s from a musical I like, and usually comforts me.

I pull out some earbuds and pop one in. The music feels good, not like the Inkantation does but the kind of good you feel when you have a warm, homemade meal.

“What are you listening to?” Eight asks me. I didn’t realise she was watching what I was doing.

I don’t offer a response, just offer her the other earbud. She takes it, and after some time manages to get it to stay in her ear. 

“I like this.” Eight says after a minute or so.

No answer from me, though I do smile. That’s good.

I feel myself yawn, and then try something. I, with a good amount of hesitation, lean against Eight, resting my head on her shoulder.

I hear a small gasp from her, but she doesn’t seem to mind much. If anything, she likes it, as I feel one of her tentacles move around my head, as if she's trying to hug me with it. It’s a sweet gesture-

_ That you don’t deserve. _

_ You nearly killed her. _

_ You don’t deserve this. _

_ Honestly, if I were her, I’d have jumped into the ocean by now. Or superjumped away. _

In a small show of defiance to the voices in my head, my tentacle moves around her, wrapping her in a loose embrace. 

It’s nice, being out here with her in the rain, listening to music, being half-asleep.

I feel her gently pick up the club of my tentacle, examining it most likely, Her hands are warm, despite the cold we’re in.

_ You could tell her. _

_ Tell her what you feel. _

_..right? _

_ Or is that too great a task for the legendary Agent Three? _

_... _

_.. _

_ I don’t want to ruin this moment. _

_...you sure that’s the only reason? _

\--

[EIGHT’S POV]

I hold Three’s tentacle in my hands, feeling how cold and smooth the orange, glossy part is. It’s amazing, really. As I run my hand over it, its smooth surface feels like such a stark contrast to everything else in the agent. 

She’s a rough person- been through a ton, and it barely makes sense any part of her is untouched by this, but I guess that’s how it is.

Three’s tentacle shifts a little in my hand, and against my shoulder I feel her shift a little. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was asleep. She shouldn’t have come here, she’s sick and needs to be conserving energy to heal.

I go back to examining her club, moving it so the rougher, white part with her sucker faces up at me. The sucker’s edges are rimmed with tiny, hook-like teeth, so small that I can run my hand along them without getting cut. Compared to the glassy mantle, this amazes me.

I try something using my own tentacles- I know some Octolings can do it, so I may as well try.

Focusing, I try to change the texture of my tentacle, and after a few minutes I manage to get the texture of my normally smooth tentacle to a rough, rock-like feeling.

Satisfied, I release my concentracion on changing the texture and look back to the Inkling resting on my shoulder, and her eyes are closed, and she looks so relaxed, a contrast to how Three usually is.

Rain continues to drip down on me and Three, and as I breathe in, the scent of the sea, river, trees, and agent next to me smell so different compared to the facility, and Three’s house, and I love it all.

**Ocean, river, passes me by**

**Agent asleep on me right now**

**I wonder, could she love me too?**

The poem comes to me, and I smile. Poems are a comfort to me, and knowing I can still write- er, think- them is relieving.

**Trees beckon to me with leaved limbs**

**Rain drips onto the concrete, see?**

**The Promised Land is beautiful**

I love poems, and spend the whole time I’m sitting on the bench creating them, though I don’t have the mem cakes to write them for, I have real memories instead of the slices Kamabo had.

\--

**■Webmaster■ > Agent 4 has joined the chatroom ** **_get 3 and 8 together_ **

Agent 4> they were on the subway

Agent 4> going somewhere

Agent 4> it was cute

Agent 4> tried to get em on a date

Agent 4> 3 was unamused

Agent 4> 8 i dont think knows what a date is

Agent 4> followed em a bit, 3 knows this cool place by the bay

Agent 1> pic????

Agent 4> unless you want a pic of me covered in rain and leaves, no

Agent 1> shame

Marie> At least they’re getting along well? And going places?

Agent 4> yeah ig

Marie> Though wasn’t Three supposed to be staying home?

Agent 4> yeah

Agent 4> gtg sorry

Agent 4> kari’s calling

**■Webmaster■ > Agent 4 has left the chatroom **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes i was listening to musicals (mostly beetlejuice and the greatest showman) as i wrote this, hence why they're mentioned/referenced.  
> all of the three-eight scene was written to rewrite the stars. and don't expect this to be the last time the fic mentions music.  
> \--  
> If I don't update for a while, sorry in advance! I have a stressful test tomorrow, and probably won't be able to write for a day, at least. More likely a few.  
> Comments are lovely! I love comments!  
> ..please comment..


	6. Salmon... run? Movies?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three and Eight work a Salmon Run shift, where Eight learns a bit more about herself, and meets some new potential allies in the form of a standoffish Charger and an optimistic Shooter, while Three panics upon learning who these potential friends are. The duo then go home to watch a movie, some much-needed relaxation from the day. Meanwhile, Pearl and Marina try to figure out what to do with Dedf1sh when they're working.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i lied. im sorry. i guess i write to de stress myself, so we get a chapter.  
> Also! over 20,000 words!! I'm writing a lot more than I thought I would!  
> \--  
> Also Salmonid rights yall!! Rise up with me! They have unused potential, so I steal it and use it.  
> IMPORTANT NOTE SHAMELESS LOVE SIMON RIPOFF HERE BECAUSE I'M TOO LAZY TO MAKE A MOVIE PLOT AT 4AM  
> IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN IT GO WATCH IT AND THEN READ THE LAST SCENE  
> Or don't. It's really good, though, so you're seriously missing out if you like gay stuff.

[DEDF1SH’S POV]

I watch as Marina sits herself down on the couch in the very fancy place we’re in. After learning how I got here- and promising I’m not just here to do Tartar’s bidding- she and Pearl let me stay in a guest room in their house until they could work something else out.

The longer I’m around the Octoling, the more I remember of my vague past. As an example: I was a male soldier, a rarity. I guess I didn’t have good enough genes to be bred, even with the scarcity of males. Though I dislike being male, so I’ve asked Pearl and Marina to call me female. They didn’t question it, and do so.

“Dedf1sh, as you know, you’re a sanitized Octoling.” Marina speaks, looking concerned. “A-and because you’re, erm, an Octoling and seem suspictions, we can’t have you in the studio. And Pearl doesn’t exactly trust you here alone, and I can’t blame her for that. So while we’re at work, would you be fine doing turf or something?”

I tilt my head to the side, a look of mild confusion on my face. “What is turf? I’d prefer to be making music.”

“It’s a game the younger Inklings play, where you try to cover up as much of the ground as you can with your own ink.” Marina explains. “Wait- can you change your ink color?”

“Yes. With difficulty.” To prove my point, I change my ink to the reddish color the tips of my hair usually are.

“Um. Would you be comfortable doing turf? For about an hour- so me and Pearl can do news and figure out something more long-term?” Marina asks, fidgeting with her hands. She seems anxious.

I nod. It sounds simple, and if the Commander sent me here to defend his puppet, I may as well be adept in ink weapons. Plus, I have memories of using shooter-type weapons before, so it shouldn’t be too difficult. Right?

\--

[EIGHT’S POV]

As another Salmonid rushes towards me, my teammate with the Custom E-Liter yells at me. “Slosher girl! Splat them already!” before levelling her Charger at a Steelhead.

I see Three out of the corner of my eye, raising her Flingza roller for another flick of ink at an oncoming Scrapper, and Shooter Teammate raises his Splattershot at a group of Cohocks and Chum, splatting most of them quickly.

The Chum next to me screeches- “Egg stealer! Give egg back and we not hurt! You not normal egg thief! You octopus!” Most of the Salmonids have been yelling at me during my first shift at Grizzco, which Three promised was ‘mostly safe’ and ‘a good job, all things considered’. She never mentioned the Salmonids talk!

I look at the little fish-thing next to me and quickly nudge it out of the way with the slosher, before diving into the blue ink to go pick up another golden egg. 

I make my way over to a group of two eggs, one already picked up by a purple-crested Salmonid. I don’t bother it, instead just grabbing one of the eggs and swimming back to the basket, where Charger is, and without looking away from her mark, her speech fills my ears as I pop the golden egg into the collection basket.

“Slosher. I know you’re new to this, or at least you act new, but you need to splat the Salmonids. We’re hired to collect eggs.” She fires a shot at a Drizzler, which explodes in a burst of ink, and three gold eggs float down to the ground. “That means you’re going to have to use your weapon.”

I don’t reply, just swim away from the Charger girl until I’m standing near Three.

“Three? Is it normal to have the Salmonids talk to you?” I ask as another Salmonid lets loose a cry of rage.

Her face changes to one of confusion, and she shakes her head as she glances at me. In the brief moment her eyes had moved, a Chum had moved into range of hitting her with its pan, but before it could advance furter, it was dispatched with a swipe of ink from Three.

One of her hands left the roller as she signed to me. “Just gather eggs for right now. We’ll talk after this shift.”

I nod and dart over to the Drizzler Charger girl had splatted a moment ago, grabbing an egg and tossing it into the basket before picking up another egg and rushing over to the basket, putting the gold sphere into it. As I move to get the last egg, a Snatcher grabs it and, upon seeing me, begins backing away. “Octopus! What you doing? You not egg thief. Octopus are friends with Salmonids? Goldies tell Deeko octopus are friends? You friend, right?”

It seems so anxious, and I really don’t want to splat it, but from the corner of my vision, I see Charger girl level her E-Liter at the Snatcher.

I act out of impulse, pushing the Snatcher out of the way of the blast of blue ink and ending up face-down in Salmonid ink as the fish creature looks at me gratefully.

“I knew octopus was friend. Thank you, octopus.” It says as my radio crackles on and Mr. Grizz’s voice buzzes through it.

“Nice haul. Now, get back to the ship.”

The friendly Snatcher hops back into the water, and I see it give a little wave as it swims off with the egg it rescued, and I walk back to the central area, where Charger has a disapproving look on her face, Shooter looks exhausted, and Three looks concerned.

I feel a tug at my core as Grizzco uses its tech to superjump us all back to the boat, where a statue of a bear greets us. “Good job, kids. Forty-seven eggs total, and two thousand twenty power eggs. And for a first-timer with you, better than expected.”

“A first-timer that refused to kill Salmonids, and defended one.” Charger adds with a bitter glare at me.

“Wait, she refused to kill Salmonids? Dude, that’s, like, half the job. Lucky us three managed to cover for you.” Shooter says, giving me and Charger confused looks.

“I’m sorry. I- I’m not used to the job yet,” I lie. Apparently revealing they talked to me was a bad idea, or at least it didn’t seem like it was normal. “It just didn’t really seem necessary, when you three were doing such a good job of taking down bosses. After all, someone has to retrieve golden eggs, right?” I give a nervous laugh, and although I see Charger’s disbelief, she thankfully doesn’t press it more.

“You did great for a first-timer, Eight.” Three signs at me. “Though the S-A-L-M-O-N-I-D-S talking to you is weird. What did they say?”

Charger and Shooter- likely in a relationship, from what I see- leave, talking to each other quietly as they drop off their weapons in a large basket with a ‘RENTALS’ sign on it.

“They called Inklings ‘egg stealers’? And I was ‘octopus’ to them. The Snatcher said Octarians and Salmonids are allies? Friends? According to Goldies?” I say, confused by most of it. “Once we get back, I want to look at the Mem Cakes I got, see if they trigger anything about this?”

Three nods. “Makes sense.” She then leads me to the basket with the Splattershot and E-Liter in it, dropping her borrowed Flingza roller in it and gestures for me to do the same. I place the Slosher in it, and then try to get the life preserver-esque ink tank off. It’s quite a struggle until Three, with a smug smile, helps me.

“Thank you. Do you need help?” I ask as I take the ink tank in my hands. Three shakes her head, shrugging the tank off in a practiced gesture. “Showoff.” I roll my eyes, smiling at her in a way that (hopefully) shows I’m joking.

Three shrugs, moving her hand so it’s always flat, just angled- “kind of.”

“Don’t deny it.” I reply to that. “What do we do with these? And when can I take these off?” I say, pulling at my bright green rubber gloves.

The orange-haired Inkling gestures for me to follow her, hanging her life preserver on a hook inside the boat, and hanging her hat on top of it. I follow suit, and it feels nice having those off.

“There are rooms there to change in.” Three points behind me, and turning I see four doors, each one marked with a number. “You’re number two. See?” She points to a small number on the life preserver- the Inkling symbol for 2. “You can change out of this, and your normal clothes are in there.”

With that, the Inkling walks to the door with the character for 3 on it- how convenient- and I walk into the second room. It’s small, but brightly lit. And my clothes are in it, just how I left them. I quickly change out of the Grizzco uniform and back into my normal clothes, disposing of the rubber outfit in a plastic basket.

When I get back to the rest of the boat, I walk over to the edge, leaning against the railing. I see some Salmonids in the water, swimming near the boat. 

_ Probably going home. I wish I knew where  _ home  _ was. _

_ Isn’t it with Three? _

_ I mean home as in where I belong. I don’t feel like she wants me there all the time. And she’s a living reminder of the Metro. _

_ The Salmonids all must have somewhere they go- right? A home they’re fighting to protect? _

“Octopus!” The high-pitched yipping voice drags me out of my thoughts, and I see the Snatcher I had rescued swimming alongside the boat, golden egg still in hand. “Octopus friend! Thank for saving me! And egg! Now we have egg back! Visit sometime! Village close!” The little purple-crested Salmonid points off, towards a little island. “Goodbye, octopus friend!”

It ducks back under the water, waving a fin in farewell as it spirals off towards the indicated island, golden egg glowing under the surface of the mildly green water for quite some time.

A tap at my shoulder, and I jump a foot in the air. Looking at who tapped me, it was just Three. “Was that your Salmonid friend?”

“I wouldn’t say friend- I just saved it? And now it’s friendly with me? It recognised me? So maybe friend?” I stumble over the words, not quite sure what to call the little Snatcher.

“We’ll go with friend. For simplicity.” Three decides. “Earlier, did you and Charger girl have an issue? She didn’t seem happy with you.”

“She didn’t like that I refused to kill innocent Salmonids. Why?”

“She was complaining about you to Splattershot boy. Thought you may want to know.” 

“Oh. That’s fine, I guess.” I reply, shrugging. “How long does this boat ride usually take?”

“An hour or so.” A different voice answers me before Three can get past the first word. It’s Shooter boy. “Sorry about Clara. She- er, she doesn’t like it when she’s paired with newbies.”

Three’s face goes pale at the name, and I don’t like that. Her hands shake when she asks me to ask about the girl’s last name.

“Um, my friend here wants to know Clara’s last name?” I say, concerned and confused.

“Ridger? Why?” Shooter boy says, and Three’s looks like she’s on the brink of a panic attack- that’s very much not good. Last time that happened, she wasn’t breathing.

“My friend wanted to know. Sorry.” I say quickly, before pulling Three to the stern of the boat, where we’d be alone, much to the confusion of the male Inkling.

Once we get to the back of the boat, I look at Three, dead serious, but gentle. “Do you want me to stay here?”

She nods, pulling me closer to her.

“Do you want me to talk to you?”

A shrug. She looks like she’s forcing back tears and trying to force herself to be calm.

“Three, it’s okay to feel things. I’m here if you need anything.”

_ I say that, but I’ve been doing a distinct lack of feeling too. _

_ Shut up! Focus on Three! She’s the more important one here! _

She shrugs again, then buries her face in my shoulder, holding me like I’m the only thing keeping her here.

We sit down, or more I sit down and Three follows suit. I feel her sobbing against me, and pull her closer to me, whispering comforting meaningless words to her as I try to help, try to think what I should do, try to help my only friend here so far.

We stay like that for about half an hour, the sobbing having died down quickly, but Three keeping her head pressed against me. It’d be nice if it was for any other reason, but it’s not, and we’re here, like this.

Eventually, I ask Three- “Do you want to talk about it?”

She shakes her head, then lifts it to look me in the eye as she moves her hand to her chest and circles it in a fist- “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. It’s fine.” I say, staring right back at her eyes- a bright sea green that feel like they have so many layers I can’t see. Fitting, for Three.

Her beautiful eyes drop, staring at the ground as she signs out an “are you sure?”

“Yes.” I say, determined to make sure this stubborn Inkling knows it.

She nods in acknowledgement. “I hate to ask, but can you maybe leave me alone for a bit?”

It hurts a tiny bit-  _ not it doesn’t, stop it Eight _ \- but I reply with a “sure. Find me if you want me.”

I leave, to the bow of the boat, where I press my head against the railing as I feel failure in my hearts. I- Cod. I hate myself for letting myself love this Inkling, because she  _ clearly _ doesn’t feel the same! And I can’t even get enough of a grip on my emotions to get myself to stop.

_ Why do emotions have to be so confusing? _

_ Marie made it sound so simple- but I can’t find a time to talk to Three about how I feel! _

_ And what good would it be, since she won’t feel the same? _

“Hey. Slosher girl.” Charger’s voice breaks me out of my thoughts, and I lift my head to see her walking towards me, tentacle waving as she walks. Her ink is still a dark blue, but a different shade than the Grizzco blue.

“Hey.” I reply halfheartedly. If she caused Three this much distress, I don’t trust her fully.

“Sorry about earlier. Whit told me you seemed pretty shaken up about it all, and I admit the stress of a good run gets me snapping at everything a lot more than usual. ‘Pologies if I got under your skin.”

“It’s fine, really.” I say, clasping my hands behind my back. “Just new to this and all- you know how it is.” I hope I got the right words- my Inkling still isn’t perfect, even with apparent skill in languages and a lot of exposure.

“Cool. Just wanted to make sure we were chill. I’m Clara, by the way. If you ever see me, feel free to say hi. Or need a friend. Y’don’t look like you had a friend this shift.”

“Oh, no, I did. Um. The roller?” I fumble with the words- this Clara character’s name shook Three up pretty badly, so I don’t quite want her around me much.

“Oh. ‘Kay, then. Offer stands.” Clara says. “If you want, me and Whit- he was the Splattershot, if you didn’t get that- we’re inside, raiding the employee-only snack stash, if you wanna join.”

I have the feeling it’d be impolite to decline the offer. “That sounds great. Where’d I go to join you guys?”

Clara grins. “Knew I had a good feeling about you. C’mon, follow me.” She leads me to the main room, and then through a door frame, where the Shooter- Whit, I guess- was already sitting, holding granola bars and packets of Power Eggs.

His ink color- a dark green- complements the mostly wooden interior of the room, save a minifridge that looks like it’s been rummaged through pretty thoroughly.

“Hey, Clara- oh, and, um. I didn’t get your name?” Whit says, looking up at Clara- and me.

“Oh, right! Your name! Sorry. Forgot to ask.” Clara smacks her forehead with a ‘V’ formed with her hand- signing “stupid.”

“I- I go by Eight.” I stutter. I feel very small and very out of place here. “I was told there were snacks?”

“Yeah! Here.” Whit tosses me a pack of Power Eggs and a granola bar. I catch them both with ease.

“You can talk to us- we don’t bite.” Whit says in a joking fashion as I silently nod.

“Um- sorry. I’m not great at social things.” I say, feeling awkward.

_ Mission: get out and back to Three. _

“Oh. That’s fine, dude. We’re not all like me.” Clara says with confidence, catching the food tossed at her. “Also- you know where Roller is?”

“Uh. Yeah. I can give snacks to her, if that’s what you’re asking.” I know I don’t want to let Clara near Three- her name gave the squid a panic attack!

“That’d be great. Thanks, Eight- weird name, by the way. Is it a nickname?” Clara asks, moving over to the fridge and tossing more granola and eggs at me.

“Yeah. Thanks.” I back out of the room, darting back to Three as soon as I can.

She’s still sitting at the stern, and I know she notices me as I approach, though no words were exchanged. 

“I have snacks.” I sit next to her, offering the pouch and bar. She takes them, opening the packet of Power Eggs and downing all of them rapidly. I didn’t know they were edible, but I guess it makes sense.

I carefully open my own plastic pouch, and pull out a small orange egg. Plopping it in my mouth, I bite down on it and instantly feel much more energised as the goopy inside fills my mouth. I swallow it down and proceed to eat the rest of the package in the span of only a few minutes.

When I finish, I see Three giving me a smug look. “Looks like someone’s never had Power Eggs before.”

“And I’d gladly have them again.” I finish the statement for Three.

“Sadly, they’re expensive. That much would be about a thousand coins. And I don’t have that kind of money.” Three looks just as disappointed as I do about that.

“So what do we do after we get back to Inkopolis?” I ask, peeling the wrapper off the granola bar and taking a bite. It tastes different than everything else has, something that still fascinates me about Inkling food.

“You’ll see.” We’re nearly back at Inkopolis, and I can feel the boat’s engine dying down as we enter the bay behind Grizzco Ind.

Once the boat stops, Three and I head to the front of Grizzco, where a card is handed to me by an Inkling employee, and the other three swipe their cards on a machine, which must update them.

With a generous amount of help from Three, I figure out how to view my score.

“Twenty-nine!” I exclaim. “I got seventeen of his eggs and  _ this _ is all I get!”

“Eight- this is your first run.” Three signs, calmly. “In higher ranks, you’ll get more points.”

“I know. It- it just feels like they’re rewarding all of the others when I did most of the work.”

Three nods. “You can have whatever I earned, if it’d make you feel better.” An orange tint covers her face as she blushes- she does that a lot, I’m noticing.

“If you’re sure?”

“I am.” She walks outside, to a shady counter. Knocking on it, a dark hand sticks out and Three hands it her card. After a moment, the metal lifts and a blue capsule is slid out, along with her card.

“Open it.” Three hands me the capsule, which I pry open quickly. Looking up at me are three tickets, one with a squid on it, another with a Splattershot and an Ink tank, and the last with a Tenta Missile launcher. Flipping them over, the second is for ‘Main-Saver Lemon’, the first ‘Swim-Speed Apple’, and the last ‘Special-Up Smoothie’.

I stuff them in a wallet I’ve had since forever, along with a ton of other coupons.

“Wait- you have Crust Bucket coupons?” Three signs, looking at the wallet in amazement.

I nod. “The Metro had a ton of ‘em. I got these easily.”

“We’re taking you there. C’mon.” Three drags me down the ramp to the line to a food truck, where we wait for what feels like hours before we’re at the front of the line.

A prawn looks down at us, sees Three, and begins a practiced speech. “Three, kid, love ya and all, but rules are-”

“Um. Mr. Sean. I have tickets?” I pipe up, sliding the tickets for a Super Seadwich and a  Triple-Fried Galactic Shwaffle to him.

“Oh. If you have tickets, you can get- yeah. I’ll get on it.” The prawn turns around, and after a few minutes a monstrosity of a waffle and a respectable sandwich are placed on the counter.

“Thanks, kids! Have a great day! Next!” Sean says as Three and I take our food to a small glass table, and as soon as I bite into it, I’m overwhelmed by the Seanwich. It has so many flavors, and I love it. Despite how recently I ate, the sandwich is gone in the span of ten minutes, and Three’s abomination-waffle in half the time, somehow.

\--

By the time we’re back home, I’m exhausted, but Three wants to do a little more. She has these things called ‘movies’ that she wants to show me, and who am I to say no?

I sit down on the couch as Three digs through a stack of movies, though after some time I come over to see if anything piques my interest.

“What about this?” I hold up a plastic case, the front displaying what looks to be an Inkling in a poorly-made monster costume.

Three’s eyes widen and she shakes her head rapidly. “Not that. Please.”

Panicked, I nod and toss the case aside. “Sorry. Didn’t mean- sorry.”

She finds some other movie she seems to like and slides the disc into an old player for it. Dragging me over to the couch, she gets her blanket and looks at me inquisitively, as if asking if I want it.

I shake my head, and Three shrugs, grabs a remote from somewhere, and starts the movie with a long scene introducing the main character, a light blue-haired Inkling girl.

When the character- Izzi- gets to her school, another Inkling, a red-inked male, mocks her for something, but her friends- a green-haired male, orange-haired female, and dark-blue-haired female stand up for her.

“Is- does that really happen?” Three nods, then shrugs. I interpret that as a ‘yes, but it’s not common’ or something like that.

I turn my attention back to the movie, where the blue-haired Inkling is reading something on a website, where something catches their eye- a post by someone called ‘Seven’, and I know having a number as my name isn’t normal, so when Izzi assumes Seven isn’t their actual name, it makes sense.

The post is Seven, a female student at Izzi’s school, saying she’s gay, and at this point I again turn to Three.

“What is gay?” I ask, an innocent question that has Three blushing furiously.

“It’s when you love people of the same gender.” She explains.

_ Like me for you? Am I ‘gay’? _

_..are you gay, Three? _

_ Do I want to be gay? Do I want Three to be gay? I don’t know. _

_...I think so. _

The movie resumes with the Inkling protagonist contacting Seven, calling herself ‘Green’ and admitting she too, is gay. There’s a montage of the two gay Inklings e-mailing (which is like texting but worse, I guess) for a bit, and then the next day we see the same red-haired Inkling getting pictures of the emails, and Izzi promising him she’ll help him get with one of her friends if he doesn’t expose her.

I move closer to Three, who looks at me. “Are you cold? I have a blanket- I can share it.”

I nod. It’s an excuse to be closer to her, and I want that.

She throws the blanket over me, and I move closer to her, feeling her arm next to me.

“Watch the movie, dumbass. Thought you’d like it.” She signs, though I feel her press closer to me, so we’re touching.

In the movie, Izzi was at a party, going to ask someone- a purple Inkling- if she was Seven, but when she finds her, she’s kissing a guy, so the blue-haired Inkling leaves, as Seven said she was gay, and according to Three, gay people liked people their gender.

The red-haired Inkling- Fred- approaches Izzi and asks if she’s made any progress getting her friend interested in him- when she says no, he threatens to ‘out her’- tell people she’s gay without her consent, as explained by Three again- and Izzi panics, telling Fred to ‘go big’.

Before he takes her advice, Izzi approaches one of her classmates- yellow, this time- about being Seven, and is shocked when she expresses interest in her green-haired friend, though the yellow-haired classmate knows nothing of Izzi’s interest in finding out who Seven is.

Fred takes this literally, superjumping with a Splashdown in the middle of a big school thing and proclaiming his love for Izzi’s friend. She politely rejects him- publicly- and Fred is ridiculed.

I feel Three’s tentacle around me, and I lean my head to her shoulder, earning me a small smile from her and a lot of blushing from me as we keep watching the movie.

In the movie, things have heaten up- Fred has outed Izzi and Seven has stopped talking to her, and all of her friends are upset, saying she’s been pushing them away and that trying to keep her orange-haired friend and green friend apart hasn’t worked, they’re dating now.

After some suspense, Izzi posts on the same website, apologizing to her friends and asking Seven to meet her at a carnival during a Splatfest.

At this point I’m cuddling Three and she’s letting me and it’s kind of great. Though I’m focused on the movie- 

Izzi goes to the carnival and rides the Ferris wheel (a giant wheel thing that you can ride on. They look weird) for hours, and eventually runs out of tickets for it. Fred, to apologize for being a jerk earlier, buys her another ride, and then the purple girl gets on too, and they kiss and it’s great. I’m hugging Three, crying a little because  _ that was a ride and I loved it thank you Three that was beautiful _ and she’s awkwardly hugging me back, and I fall asleep on her, because there’s no movie to keep me awake anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> way too much rewrite the stars was listened to during this.  
> on another note, stressful test over yay! hope i did well.  
> \--  
> Comments are loved and make me very happy! Kudos too!  
> (please comment they feed me they make me write more i swear for sure)


	7. [BONUS CHAPTER] Goodnight, Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Small fluffy moment that didn't fit in the next chapter. Very short.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was going to be the start of Ch. 7, but it didn't fit and so here it is.

[THREE’S POV]

The Octoling asleep on me is comforting, almost as if she’s forgiving me for all I’ve done to hurt her so far. Or bother her. Or upset her, or anything.

Though why today had to have so many reminders of the past is beyond me- Clara, that stupid movie, now this.

**_Looks like someone isn’t as impenetrable as they seem._ **

_ Fuck off, Tartar. It’s been a nice change with you gone from my head. _

I lay my head on top of Eight’s, gently. She doesn’t wake, but leans a little closer to me. She’s always so warm. And since she’s asleep on me, I guess I’ll have to tolerate that warmth for longer.

Not tolerate. I love it. Not that I’d admit that.

I close my eyes, and a short memory flashes across my mind-

_ “I like your voice.” Eight smiles at me, then her expression changes back to the concerned one. “Except when you’re telling me to stop. Then it’s less nice.” _

That brings a small smile to my face as I willingly use my voice for the first time in a long time.

“Goodnight.” I whisper to Eight, knowing the Octoling asleep in my arms can’t hear me, but earlier she helped me so much, so I’ll trust her with my voice, this once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3  
> Comments are wonderful I love them!!


	8. Memories Remembered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Squid ancestry, a snippet of Eight's past, and Three decides it's time to go see the octopus in charge of the Octolings- DJ Octavio.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow someone's been dead..  
> Sorry about how long this took to get out! School's actually pushing work now, and I learned there was a new season of She-Ra and the Princesses of Power to binge. Take a wild guess which one of those got done first..

[EIGHT’S POV]

“Wait- so not all Inklings look like you? Like some have giant teeth on their tentacles?” I ask, wide-eyed as Three turns to face me and hand me a waffle (she insisted I try it. There was a whole Splatfest about them, I guess.)

Three nods. “Four’s girlfriend has webbed tentacles. She’s descended from a-” she signs something I don’t know- “squid.”

“A what squid?”

“V-A-M-P-I-R-E. They’re apparently blood-drinking Inklings who turn into bats, not squids.” Three explains, and I nod, thinking I understand.

“So Four’s girlfriend turns into a bat?”

“No, but she’s descended from a different kind of squid than I am.” The Inkling sits down next to me, holding her own plate of waffles.

“What kind of squid are you?” I ask, pouring the sweet syrup on my waffle and then cutting it into little pieces, stuffing several into my mouth.

“A H-U-M-B-O-L-D-T squid.” Three seems proud of this. “We used to have teeth in our tentacles. It’s pretty cool. You?”

“I- I don’t really know. Sorry.” I apologise, finishing off the waffle.

“Right. A-M-N-E-S-I-A. Forgot.” Three shakes her head, as if expecting herself to remember it all.

“It’s fine. What are we doing today?” I ask.

“Dunno. I was going to Salmon Run, if you want to join.” Three replies after grabbing her third waffle.

“That reminds me!” I dart upstairs, to my old ink tank. I may hate the thing, but it holds all my Mem Cakes from the Metro.

Rummaging through it, I find what I was after- the Salmolids. The little memories feel like rubber as I shove them in a pocket and run back downstairs, dumping the little eraser-like memories on the counter we- or rather, a confused Three- is eating at.

“I have these! I forgot that I wanted to try and see if I could remember things using these!” I explain quickly, then begin staring at the not-quite-rubber Goldie, seeing if I can access whatever memories are locked away in my head.

After a minute or so, I can see vague colors and hear sounds if I focus. After five, they’re less vague, and after twenty I can finally remember-

_ “An honor it is to trade with Octarians again, Lieutenant-General [????]. I hope the relations between Salmonids and Octarians may flourish until we meet again.” A Goldie says, head wreathed in shining silver and gold. It holds out a roughly-made book, which I reach out and take. _

_ “A pleasure as always, _ Ghirrak _ Kirezan.” I reply to the Salmonid. Next to me, an Elite Octoling hands the Goldie what looks to be a blueprint, at my indication. _

_ Next to me, other than the first Elite, is a male Elite, a very rare thing to be seen by any non-Octarian. _

_ The Goldie is alone in wherever we are, other than me and my Octolings, which turn and leave after I nod my respect to the  _ Ghirrak _. _

_ Once we’re outside, the green water laps at the pathways of the scrap-metal fortress we’re in as the female Elite turns to me. _

_ “Excellent job, Lieutenant-General. General Octavio will be pleased, I am certain.” _

_ “Let us not waste time. Rhiiar. You first, to scout. Never know when those Inkling scum will be trying to interfere with things outside their comprehension.” The female Elite nods and super jumps away, leaving me and the male. _

I blink as the memory cuts off abruptly.

“Well. What’d you learn?” Three signs.

“I was a Lieutenant-General, reporting to General Octavio directly. I was allowed to trade with Salmonids without a higher-up there. A  _ Ghirrak _ Goldie.”

“A  _ what _ Goldie?” Three asks, looking confused. “That wasn’t any Inkling  _ or _ Octarian I recognise.”

“A spiritual leader of sorts, but believing in a spirit of war? Guiding the people, using their bloodlust as the ‘spirit’? It’s confusing.” I say, barely thinking about what I’m saying.

_ How do I know that? _

_ Is- I must speak Salmonid? _

_ Do I speak Salmonid because I was Lieutenant-General of the Octoling army? _

_ Cod, why did I have to lose memories? _

Three has no verbal response, just a kind of satisfied nod.

“We could ask Octavio, if you want.” Three signs after a few minutes.

“We- what?” I fumble with the words. “Where- he’s here?”

“Tentakeel Outpost. In a snow globe.” Three smiles a tad at that.

“O-okay? Let’s go.” I decide. “In a few minutes so I can get into different clothes.”

Three nods, dumping the dishes in the sink and heading upstairs before me.

After she’s in the bathroom, changing (which is weird. I guess it’s an Inkling thing, though.) I change into some comfortable clothes, and wait for Three, who knocks a second later and we go out.

\--

While we’re on the subway, I hear a  _ ding! _ from my phone, letting me know someone contacted me, at least from what I’ve seen (and according to Three.) Exciting!

Opening it up, I see a new group chat with me and Four (Ali? Do all Inklings have two names?)

**■Webmaster■ > Agent 4 has created a new chatroom with Agent 3 and Eight**

Agent 4> hey guys

Agent 4> um so i know 3 likes musicals and its a disgrace 8 hasnt seen any so like

Agent 4> wanna see vega with me tomorrow or something

Agent 4> i have tickets and was gonna bring mack and liz but theyre out of town with some last minute thing

Agent 4> kinda stupid if you ask me

Agent 4> but anyways yeah offers open

Agent 4> it’s fine if you dont want to come just thought i should offer

I look up at Three, who’s staring at the screen like she’s been gifted some great thing that she must treasure. She turns to me, raises an eyebrow in question.

“I think it’d be cool!” I say, and Three looks very happy, signs something I don’t understand, and replies:

Agent 3> we’re down

Agent 3> when and where

Agent 3> and no you’re not coming to my house

Agent 4> dang

Agent 4> New Kellper Auditorium, 7:00 pm

Agent 3> so 19:00 at new kellper tomorrow?

Agent 4> ye

Agent 4> meet me at the park across from it

Agent 4> ill be light blue probs

I type out something-

Eight> What should I wear? Do we have to change ink colors? What am I missing

Three looks up at me. “I’ll help you.”

Agent 4> 3’ll make it work

Agent 4> Kali’s not coming. doesnt like how its about death

Agent 4> see you then

Agent 4> thx guys, love u both

The subway slides to a stop, and me and Three hop out, heading to the sewer grate that leads to Octo Canyon. 

“Ready for this?” Three looks at me, head tilted slightly and a concerned look on her face.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” I shift to octopus form and slip into the grate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comment or i eat leg.  
> (comments and kudos are loved!)


	9. Xav

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three and Eight meet up with DJ Octavio- who reveals some of Eight's past. Dedf1sh meets someone who's at least a little sympathetic to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow ive been dead. im back though!! and have a new chapter of all of the lesbian cephalopods  
> \--  
> lots of fun to write, love yall~

[THREE’S POV]

I’m whisked along in space as the grate pulls me to the Outpost. I know Eight’s close by, which is nice.

Popping out of the grate and becoming an Inkling again, I shake my head off and move so Eight has space to transform back.

_ Gah. Why does my head hurt? I- what’d I do? _

Eight’s form emerges from the grate, and she’s now beside me.

“He’s over there. Do you want me there or not?”

She shrugs. “I- I think I’d prefer it if you’re there.”

I nod. “Okay. He’s just over here.” I walk over to the globe and rap at the glass with my knuckles.

A low growl comes from the octopus inside. “What d’ you want, kid.” He turns towards me and the Octoling.

“What’re- yo! Get me out of here!” DJ Octavio says to Eight. “C’mon, you can splat this squid here and now and no one’d know!”

He’s speaking Octarian, as if I don’t understand it. My ink flashes a bright red to the DJ, showing my anger at him.

Eight warily backs up, looking at me with wide eyes, wanting reassurance. My ink color changes back to normal. “I’m here.”

She nods, then approaches the giant octopus, glaring ever so slightly. “Answer me some questions, DJ.”

“Sure thing, kid.” He’s looking from her to me, calculating. “Just one thing first. Why’re you with that old ghost? Y’know, the squid who single- handedly killed eighty percent of us?”

“She- um- she saved me? I saved her?” Eight stutters, and I step forward, just close enough to be right behind her. I’d find it comforting if she did that- not like that’d say much. really.

“Sure. What’d you want to know. You got one question.” Octavio remarks, position very casual and relaxed.

“Why did you send me to fight Agent Three?”

The DJ tilts his head ever so slightly, tentacle propping his head up as he thinks. “Well,  Xavian, you were my lieutenant-general. Who’d you expect me to send, Arrin?” He says with a small, smug grin. “I trusted you, kiddo, and that was quite the mistake, gotta say.”

I glance at Eight, who looks startled. Switching to Inkling, she mutters something to me- “I- can we go home?”

A nod from me, as well as what can only be described as a murderous glare at the DJ, who’s watching us with a smug smile.

“Come back soon, Xav. You too, murderer.” He calls as I toss a tarp over his snowglobe and look to Eight, who’s sitting down, expressionless, staring at the ground.

I plop down beside her, tapping her shoulder. When she looks over, I sign. “Do you want me to touch you? Would that help?”

A muffled noise and a nod. I carefully move my arm around her, and am thankful that Cap’n sleeps until noon on a regular day, as Eight’s now pressing her face into my shoulder and I feel her crying and having trouble breathing and I don’t know what to do- I just sit there, letting her cry, gently rubbing my hand on her back.

I don’t know how long we’re there like that, her crying and me just being there.  _ Useless. _

After what could have been a minute or an eternity, she stops crying, but doesn’t move.

“Thank you.” She says, ever so quietly. “That name- it’s a good name, just- I didn’t- it was startling to have a name.”

I nod, despite her not being able to see it. She must feel it, though, because she continues. “I- Eight or Xavian is okay. Could- could we also not tell the other agents about this? I- I need time to get used to having two names. Or- um- a real name.”

\--

[DEDF1SH’S POV]

“-and you’re sure Callie and Marie are going to be there?? With us??” Marina asks of the Inkling.

“Yeah, Rina. And they were fine with Ded being there too.” Pearl replies.

It’s interesting how I have lived with the two for just a few days and I am already recognising the language. Perhaps we were taught it?

“Who are Callie and Marie.” I straighten my glasses. I much prefer wearing them and the Inkling and Octoling duo had no issue with them.

“Um. Only, like, the coolest pop stars ever! Like, the coolest you’ll ever meet! And we’re going to go hang out with them today!” Marina practically sings in her excitement.

“Very well. When are we going.” I ask of the Octoling in Octarian, the much more comfortable language.

“Now? Are you ready, Miz- um- Ded?” Marina asks as Pearl heads to the door.

“Of course.” I follow Pearl and Marina to the door, where they get into a large mechanical thing- a car, they call it- and I follow suit.

The ‘car’ speeds off towards a place in the large city, and I sit silently. It’s odd- perhaps these people could spark ‘memories’. After all, Callie and Marie- the names ring a bell. Vaguely, but it’s there.

\--

“Ded! C’mon!” Marina calls out to me, to which I turn towards her.

“Yes- I mean, coming.” I have to remember- they do not like being referred to as Commander Tartar did.

I get out of the car, following the two into a large building, where two Inklings are. One has dark ink- I feel like I vaguely know her- and the other has light ink.

The dark ink one moves towards me as Marina, Pearl, and the light one walk to a table.

“Hey. You’re Dedf1sh, right?” The dark one asks. I nod. “I’m Callie. You’re apparently really cool at music, right?” A nod followed by a shrug. “Show me sometime.” She doesn’t look scared of me, like Pearl, or mad at me, like the light Inkling was. She just seems.. understanding, almost.

“Why are you not frustrated with me?” I ask Callie as she and I walk to the table. She ends up sitting next to me and the light one- Marie, I assume.

“Look. I- I lived with octos for a while. I know what it was like to be brainwashed. You- look. You’re worth more than your physical body. You deserve a chance to live, y’know?” Callie replies, what I think is a sympathetic smile on her face. She speaks Octarian, a pleasing change on my ears.

_ Interesting.  _ **_She’s sympathetic. Get close to her._ **

_ Yes, Commander. _

I don’t much want to hurt this inkling- she’s been more friendly to me than anyone save Marina. I give her a nod to show my understanding. 

“‘Kay then. Not one for conversation?” Callie says in a joking manner. Or at least I believe it is a joke- I am not certain.

“I have one purpose, and that is to create music. I was not meant to be entertaining.” I reply, and upon seeing her disappointment at this, add, “though I can try to be, if it would please you.”

She brightens considerably. “Great! So, what’d you do down there?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comment or i,, um,, eat fingers?  
> \--  
> xavian? have a meaning to me? more likely than you'd think (and it's all because of a great tuba player/ actor/ fucking beautiful singer with a name that sounds similar)

**Author's Note:**

> I need more sleep.  
> ..suffer.


End file.
